THE WINDOW

There he stood in the parlour of the poky little
house where she had taken him, waiting for her,
while she went upstairs a moment to sec a woman.
He heard her quick step above; heard her voice
cheerful, then low; looked at the mats, tea-caddies,
glass shades; waited quite impatiently; looked
forward eagerly to the walk home, determined to
carry her bag; then heard her come out; shut
a door; say they must keep the windows open
and the doors shut, ask at the house for anything
they wanted (she must be talking to a child),
when, suddenly, in she came, stood for a moment
silent (as if she had been pretending up there,
and for a moment let herself be now), stood
quite motionless for a moment against a picture
of Queen Victoria wearing the blue ribbon of the
Carter; and all at once he realised that it was
this: it was this:—she was the most beautiful
person he had ever seen.

With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair,
with cyclamen and wild violets—what nonsense
was he thinking? She was fifty at least; she had
eight children* Stepping through fields of flowers
and taking to her breast buds that had broken and
lambs that had fallen; with the stars in her eyes
and the wind in her hair—He took her bag.

" Good-bye, Elsie/' she said> and they walked
up the street, she holding her parasol erect and

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