light scaffolding had been placed in the chapel. Work was to begin.

Laura put on her hat, took a basket, and went into the garden to gather
fresh flowers for the house. Along the edges of the bowling-green stood
rows of sunflowers, a golden show against the deep bronze of the thick
beech hedges that enclosed the ground. Laura was trying, without much
success, to reach some of the top blossoms of a tall plant when Helbeck
came upon her.

"Be as independent as you please," he said laughing, "but you will never
be able to gather sunflowers without me!"

In a moment her basket was filled. He looked down upon her.

"You should live here--in the bowling-green. It frames you--your white
hat--your grey dress. Laura!"--his voice leapt--"do I do enough to make
you happy?"

She flushed--turned her little face, and smiled at him--but rather sadly,
rather pensively. Then she examined him in her turn. He looked jaded and
tired. From want of sleep?--or merely from the daily fatigue of that long
walk, foodless, to Whinthorpe for early Mass? That morning, as usual, by
seven o'clock she had seen him crossing the park. A cheerless rain was
falling from a grey sky. But she had never yet known him stopped by
weather.

There was a quick association of ideas--and she said abruptly:

"Why did Mr. Williams say all that to you last night, do you suppose?"