to me watching the cigar-stump alternately pale
and glow against the dark background of laurel,
a vision of a tip-tilted nose, of a small head poised
scornfully, seemed to hover on the gathering
gloom — seemed to grow and fade and grow
again, like the grin of the Cheshire cat — patheti-
cally, reproachfully even; and the charms of
the baker's wife slipped from my memory like
snow-wreaths in thaw. After all, Sabina was
nowise to blame : why should the child be
punished? To-morrow I would give them the
slip, and stroll round by her garden promiscu-
ous-like, at a time when the farmer was safe in
the rick-yard. If nothing came of it, there was
no harm done ; and if on the contrary . . . !




,;>; y^^^-^^^r'--':



89



THE BURGLARS



THE BURGLARS

IT was much too fine a night to think of going
to bed at once, and so, although the witch-
ing hour of nine p.m. had struck, Edward and I
were still leaning out of the open window in
our nightshirts, watching the play of the cedar-
branch shadows on the moonlit lawn, and
planning schemes of fresh devilry for the sun-
shiny morrow. From below, strains of the
jocund piano declared that the Olympians were
enjoying themselves in their listless impotent
way ; for the new curate had been bidden to
dinner that night, and was at the moment
unclerically proclaiming to all the world that
he feared no foe. His discordant vociferations
doubtless started a train of thought in Edward's
mind, for he presently remarked, d propos of
nothing whatever that had been said before, ' I
believe the new curate 's rather gone on Aunt
Maria.'

93



THE GOLDEN AGE

I scouted the notion ; ' Why, she 's quite old,'
I said. (She must have seen some five-and-
twenty summers.)

' Of course she is,' replied Edward scornfully.
