behind, in the pleasure of rapid motion and fresh air. But he drew rein
half an hour afterward at Acland Falls, and the care that had sat on
the crupper came to the front again. "As a last resort," he said, "I
can persuade her she has a voice, and send her to Italy, and keep her
the rest of her life cultivating it in Milan."

All unconscious of the anxiety she was occasioning, Maud walked home
with her feet scarcely aware of the pavement. She felt happy through
and through. There was little thought, and we may say little
selfishness in the vague joy that filled her. The flowers she held in
her hands recalled the faint odors she had inhaled in Farnham's house;
they seemed to her a concrete idea of luxury. Her mind was crowded and
warmed with every detail of her visit: the dim, wide hall; the white
cravat of Budsey; the glimpse she caught of the dining-room through the
open door; the shimmer of cut glass and porcelain; the rich softness of
the carpets and rugs, the firelight dancing on the polished brass, the
tender glow of light and repose of shadow on the painted walls and
ceilings; the walk in the trim garden, amid the light and fragrance of
the spring; the hot air of the rose-house, which held her close, and
made her feel faint and flushed, like a warm embrace; and through all
the ever-present image of the young man, with his pleasant,
unembarrassed smile, the white teeth shining under the dark mustache;
the eyes that seemed to see through her, and yet told her nothing; and
more than all this to poor Maud, the perfect fit and fashion of his
clothes, filled her with a joyous trouble. She could not dwell upon her
plans for employment. She felt as if she had found her mission, her
true trade,--which was to walk in gardens and smell hot-house roses.
The perplexities which filled Farnham's head as to what he should do
with her found no counterpart in hers. She had stopped thinking and
planning; things were going very well with her as it was. She had lost