Page 62 (1/1)

Maggie had begun to stand for him as a kind of embodiment of a view of life which was sane, wholesoeness about her, a strength, a sense of fresh air that was delightful It was that kind of thing, he thought, that had attracted hie of Amy, on the other hand, more than ever now since those recent associations, stood for so quite contrary--certainly for attractiveness, but of a feverish and vivid kind, extraordinarily unlike the other To express it in ter, and of Aie was cool and sunny; Aht

And now Maggie had to be faced

First he reflected that he had not breathed a hint, either to her or his mother, as to what had passed They both would believe that he had dropped all this There would then be no arguing, that at least was a comfort But there was a curious sense of isolation and division between hinantly, what affair was it of hers? She was not his confessor; she was just a convent-bred girl who couldn't understand He would be aloof and polite That was the attitude And he would hts of smoke from his pipe and stood up That was settled

It was in this determined mood then that he stepped out on to the platforie, radiant in furs, waiting for hie sunset

These two did not kiss one another It was thought better not But he took her hand with a pleasant sense of welco

"Auntie's in the broughae on the top Oh! Laurie, how jolly this is!"

It was a pleasant two-mile drive that they had Laurie sat with his back to the horses His , and looked at hihtful ho Mrs Baxter asked after Mr Morton, Laurie's coach, with proper deference

But places have as strong a power of retaining associations as persons, and even as they turned down into the hamlet Laurie are that this was particularly true just now He carefully did not glance out at Mr Nugent's shop, but it was of no use The whole place was as full to him of the memory of Amy--and more than the memory, it seeate where he had whispered her naht, showed beyond the house; and half anohere he had first met her face to face in the sunset, and the sluice of the streaether silent And all was like a landscape seen through colored paper by a child, it was of the uniform tint of death and sorrow