if he crept beneath the window and called to her, she would answer his call.  If he told her to do so, she would come out in her night-dress—­she would walk bare-footed through the fields, and plunge with him into the wonderful wood.  If he told her to do it, she would go into the stream, and dance and splash—­realizing that old dream—­the white-bodied nymph of the wood for him to leap at and carry off into the gloom.  He wrenched himself round, and made his way rapidly from the garden to the meadow.  He could not support his thoughts.  The proximity of the girl was driving him mad.

All through the little meadow and again in the wider fields the air had a soft fragrance; the sky was high and quite clear, with a few stars; the whole earth, for as much as he could see of it, seemed to be sleeping in a deep delightful peace.  Beyond his fences there were the neighbors’ farms, and then there were the heath, the hills; and beyond these, other counties, other countries, the rest of the turning globe, the universe it turned in—­and once again he had that feeling of infinite smallness, the insect unfairly matched against a solar system, the speck of dust whirled as the biggest stars are whirled, inexorably.

At the confines of his land he leaned upon a gate, groaning and praying.

“O Christ Jesus, Redeemer of mankind, why hast Thou deserted me?  O God the Father, Lord and Judge, why dost Thou torment me so?”

XXIX

Very early in the morning he told Mavis that he felt sure they ought to send Norah away on a holiday for the good of her health.

“This hot weather has been a severe test for all of us,” he said; “and of course what I should consider equally advisable would be to send you and the children along with her, but I suppose—­”

“What, me go away just when you’re going to cut the grass!”

“Very well,” he said, “I won’t urge it.  But as to Norah, that’s a decision I’ve come to; so please don’t question it.  She’s been working too hard—­”

“Did she complain to you yesterday, when you lectured her?”

“No.  Not a word.  An’ she’ll prob’ly resist the idea.  But she must be overruled, because my mind is made up.  So now the only question that remains is—­where are you to send her?  What about that place for servants resting—­at Bournemouth, the place Mrs. Norton collects subscriptions for?”

“Yes, I might ask Mrs. Norton if she could spare us a ticket.”

“No, send the girl as a paying guest.  I don’t grudge any reasonable expense.  Or again there’s Mrs. Creech’s daughter-in-law, over at S’thaampton Water.”

“Oh, there’s half a dozen people I could think of—­”

“All right,” he said; “but I want it done now, straight away.  And look here, Mav.  Take this thing off my shoulders, and don’t let me be bothered.  I shouldn’t have decided it, if I didn’t know it was right.  I’ve a long and difficult day before me.  You just hop into the gig, and Tom’ll drive you round—­to see Mrs. Norton or anybody else.  Only let me hear by dinner-time that the arrangement is made.”