day for fear he might not enjoy to-morrow so much. And it was
terrifying to feel that his daughter was divested of that
safeguard. The very way she sat in that chair showed it--lost in
her dream. He had never been lost in a dream himself--there was
nothing to be had out of it; and where she got it from he did not
know! Certainly not from Annette! And yet Annette, as a young
girl, when he was hanging about her, had once had a flowery look.
Well, she had lost it now!

Fleur rose from her chair--swiftly, restlessly, and flung herself
down at a writing-table. Seizing ink and writing-paper, she began
to write as if she had not time to breathe before she got her
letter written. And suddenly she saw him. The air of desperate
absorption vanished, she smiled, waved a kiss, made a pretty face
as if she were a little puzzled and a little bored.

Ah! She was "fine"--"fine!"





III

AT ROBIN HILL


Jolyon Forsyte had spent his boy's nineteenth birthday at Robin
Hill, quietly going into his affairs. He did everything quietly
now, because his heart was in a poor way, and, like all his