On the afternoon of the last of those November days Maud Neville chose again the road to Pool. She had learned of Power's until dark to a corner of the run, and so might take the way without fear of a meeting. Time, if a slow , was proving of service, and had been exchanged for a jog-along content.  
The picture was discovering its proportions, and, from the chair of justice, she could examine it and pronounce verdict. It was crudely when studied thus. A man ran crying for a prize which he would throw away as soon as gained. He demanded the meagre thing because it stayed out of reach. There was humour in the picture if one was in the mood to see it.
 
To-day an idea had come, building itself to shape during the morning. As a result, when lunch was over, she had saddled the horse again and taken the road to the river.
 
 
As she left the stable, Mr. King crossed to the office. He waited for her in the path, and she pulled up the horse.
 
"Aren't you very energetic so early in the day?"
 
"One has to do something for a change, even if one becomes energetic. Life is rather like those travelling shows that find the way here sometimes. You have to clap and laugh loud in case you yawn your head off."
 
"I would sooner yawn than clap on a day like this. Where are you off to?"
 
"Somewhere. Anywhere. As the spirit shall move."
 
She felt friendly towards this man, who stood wrinkling his face at the sunlight—a little slow, a little , and rather . He too was in this stupid net. Could he have guessed it, she was in no better case than he. He might have guessed it. The laugh might be his as much as hers.
 
"Sometimes life moves fast enough to prevent one yawning," he said.
 
"So you have told me lately. Then you still look for by Pelican Pool? You are a good miner, Mr. King. You follow the to its end."
 
"Did you think the fool ever learns from his ?" he said.
 
 
"As much as the wise man from his wisdom."
 
"What, the is the fool grown old and bloodless?"
 
"Why not the spectator who leaves the to watch from the box."
 
"But will he seek the box, before he has lost in the arena? First, must he not be broken by the other wrestlers, and come second in the footrace?"
 
"Perhaps so, Mr. King."
 
"I must get under the tree, here. The sun never agrees with me after lunch. That's better. Now I am ready for your profoundest philosophy. Have you any for me?"
 
"Mr. King, I want you to be serious for once."
 
"What do you want?"
 
"Now don't be angry. Do you think it right to run after this girl? She is very young."
 
"Right? There are no such things as right or wrong."
 
"I said be serious."
 
"I am serious. There are no such things as right or wrong. Mark me the one. Find me the sinner. Some are born godly—a then for their . Some have no wish for narrow ways. Who shall point a finger at them? Some struggle and win or lose. They who win have been lent strength—where then their[Pg 253] virtue? They who lose were denied aid. Where is their ? Foolish human souls all of us, given the hopes of angels and the bodies of beasts."
 
"Fine big words, Mr. King."
 
"And if virtue exists, where is its reward? Does the gardener turn his spade from the worm that tills his garden. Does the fowler cast less wide his net lest he trap the song bird that him overnight. The old ox to the . The old horse to the knacker."
 
"Come, I am not to be . Don't you think you ought to leave such a child alone?"
 
"But why must I let be and others go on? Besides, her arms are very wide."
 
"How can you talk like that, Mr. King. I thought you were fond of her. You have made me angry now."
 
She drew the together and Stockings passed at a fast walk across the plain. Presently the green belt of the river had risen out of the horizon, and later they had come among the first trees. As she was carried into the nobler timber, and saw the ribbons of water among laced , and met the pleasant play of light and shade, and felt the cooler ways, and heard the call of birds in hidden places, the charm of this quiet spot beside the river her magically as it had done three weeks before. Indeed,[Pg 254] this time she felt better able to face circumstance. Then she had been an untried soldier, firm enough of purpose, but one whom the first whistle of bullets had shocked. Three weeks of war had proven her.
 
She rode' to the edge of the water. She found the fair scene had no altered—unless the of the Pool had shrunken—unless the great white lilies had tired of blooming, and slept now beneath the water until another year should revive them—unless the sun, climbed higher in the sky, stared down more unkindly.
 
After a space spent thus, with Stockings beneath her like a rock, she turned over what was to be done. She frowned a little and nursed her lip. It was not a pleasant errand she had come on, nor one with a beginning easy to find. She had come to talk with the girl that lived here, and bring her to a decision. She must give Jim yes or no. Let her have him if she wanted; but let her say so. This could not go on. His character was being sapped away. Let the girl take him and he would have what he wanted, or let her send him away and he must pull himself together. It did not matter to her—Maud. Things had gone too far. The worst had been over a long time, and she could look the future in the face. She was sure she did not care now as acutely as once she had[Pg 255] done. She would do him this kindness for old times sake, and then she must begin to put him out of her life. But it was a hateful business. She might meet scorn at the girl's hands—worse, Jim might hear of her errand and think she was willing to throw pride away, if by hook or by she could clutch back his affection. Well, love must go on many services, and the trusted servant travels always by unkindest ways.
 
She ordered Stockings forward, and he backed from the edge of the Pool into the trees and followed the path where soon the camp would discover itself. The gentle birds piped them down their passage. The hut came out among the trees. It looked mean and shabby from long wooing by the weather. The hessian walls were and the tents had .
 
She pulled up the horse before he had carried her from the shelter of the trees. She was disturbed again as to what to do. She must pretend to come that way by chance. And how do that? She might ride up to the door and ask for a cup of water. And then father or mother might open to her. Well, things would happen as they would happen, and wit was the serving man to .
 
When she was ready to give Stockings the[Pg 256] signal to advance, he lifted his ears. She followed their direction and discovered she was watched. Next instant she found the watcher was the girl she had come to find. The child must have gone among the trees to gather dead branches for firewood, and now stood there among the trunks, as still as they, staring at her boldly. The figure might have been a dryad pausing on the instant before flight. Its loveliness wounded her as though a had been cast at her. Who could look upon such beauty and after be content with less? She touched the flank of her big horse, and he carried her across the space still to traverse. He came to full stop when she the reins.
 
She must be the first to speak. The girl had stood unmoved the while, looking her boldly in the face. She wondered if she guessed her name from .
 
"That must be hot work for the middle of the day. It would have waited for evening. But I'm setting no better example, am I, riding about the country like this? I was glad to find these trees."
 
She looked the girl over from head to foot. She judged her to be eighteen years old or no more than nineteen, but a flower which had come quick to bloom. She looked her over with uncharitable eyes, but nowhere found f............