no good expecting her to be.'

'I shall talk to her before I go!' he said, half laughing, half
resolved.

Nelly looked alarmed.

'No--please don't! She always gets the better of people who scold her.
Or if you were to get the better, then she'd visit it on me. And now
don't let's talk of her any more! What were we saying? Oh, I know--what
I was to do. Let's sit down again,--there's a rock, made for us.'

And on a natural seat under a sheltering rock canopied and hung with
fern, the two rested once more, wrapped in one cloak, close beside the
water, which was quiet again, and crossed by the magical lights and
splendid shadows of the dying sunset. Nelly had been full of plans when
they sat down, but the nearness of the man she loved, his arm round her,
his life beating as it were in one pulse with hers, intoxicated, and for
a time silenced her. She had taken off her hat, and she lay quietly
against him in the warm shelter of the cloak. He thought presently she
was asleep. How small and dear she was! He bent over her, watching as
closely as the now dim light allowed, the dark eyelashes lying on her
cheek, her closed mouth, and soft breathing. His very own!--the thought
was ecstasy--he forgot the war, and the few days left him.

But this very intensity of brooding love in which he held her, made her
restless after a little. She sat up, and smiled at him--

'We must go home!--Yes, we must. But look!--there is a boat!'