THE LIGHTHOUSE

so. Still she would hold off, and now she would
assert for a brief season some of those prides and
airs the due of her beauty which she was generally
utterly without; would turn her head; would look
so, over her shoulder, always with some Minta,
Paul, or William Bankes at her side. At length,
standing outside the group the very figure of a
famished wolfhound (Lily got up off the grass and
stood looking at the steps, at the window, where
she had seen him), he would say her name, once
only, for all the world like a wolf barking in the
snow, but still she held back; and he would say
it once more, and this time something in the tone
would rouse her, and she would go to him, leaving
them all of a sudden, and they would walk off
together among the pear trees, the cabbages,
and the raspberry beds. They would have it out
together. But with what attitudes and with what
words? Such a dignity was theirs in this relation-
ship that, turning away, she and Paul and Minta
would hide their curiosity and their discomfort,
and begin picking flowers, throwing balls, chat-
tering, until it was time for dinner, and there
they were, he at one end of the table, she at the
other, as usual.

" Why don't some of you take up botany? . , .
With all those legs and arms why doesn't one of
you . . o? " So they would talk as usual, laugh-

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