II.

The night gave him little rest. Whilst his body lay heavy, his brain,
feverishly active, chased through the hours glimpses of the queen of
his adventure. By early morning he was prodded into consciousness, and
awaked to find himself instantly confronted with a terrible affair.
Into his life, so he assured himself, had come a serious interest such
as that which the Dean had hoped for him.

Here, lying abed with fresh morning smiling in through the open
window, for the first time he looked forward, following the face he
had pursued through his dreams, into the future. Its chambers he found
ghastly barren. He visualised it as a vast unfurnished house. To the
merry eye with which two days ago he had looked upon the world, the
picture, had he then conjured it, would have given him no gloom. He
would have thought it a fine thing, this empty house that was his own-
-empty, but representing freedom.

The matter was different now. Into this empty house had danced the
girl. Her gay presence discovered its barrenness. There was not a
chair on which she could sit, not a dish in the larder.

George recalled that tight little practice at Runnygate that might be
had for 400 pounds; went down to breakfast rehearsing a scene with his
uncle; was moody through the meal.



III.