CHAPTER

      I the verdict
     II fellow-travellers
    III an encounter with death
     IV Crailing rectory
      V the second meeting
     VI the aftermath of an adventure
    VII Diana sings
   VIII Mrs. Lawrence’s hospitality
     IX A contest of Wills
      X miss Lermontof’s advice
     XI the year’s fruit
    XII Max Errington’s return
   XIII the friend who stood by
    XIV the flame of love
     XV Diana’s decision
    XVI Baroni’s opinion of matrimony
   XVII “Whom god hath joined together”
  XVIII the approaching shadow
    XIX the “First night” Performance
     XX the shadow Falls
    XXI the other woman
   XXII the parting of the ways
  XXIII pain
   XXIV the vision of love
    XXV breaking-point
   XXVI the reaping
  XXVII Carlo Baroni explains
 XXVIII the awakening
   XXIX sacrifice

  The haven of memory

  Do you remember
    Our great love’s pure unfolding,
  The troth you gave,
    And prayed for God’s upholding,
      Long and long ago?

  Out of the past
    A dream—­and then the waking—­
  Comes back to me,
    Of love and love’s forsaking,
      Ere the summer waned.

  Ah!  Let me dream
    That still a little kindness
  Dwelt in the smile
    That chid my foolish blindness,
      When you said good-bye.

  Let me remember,
    When I am very lonely,
  How once your love
    But crowned and blessed me only,
      Long and long ago!

  Margaret Pedler.

Note:—­Musical setting by Isador Epstein.  Published by G. Ricordi &
Co.; 14 East 43rd Street, New York.

THE SPLENDID FOLLY

CHAPTER I

THE VERDICT

The March wind swirled boisterously down Grellingham Place, catching up particles of grit and scraps of paper on his way and making them a torment to the passers-by, just as though the latter were not already amply occupied in trying to keep their hats on their heads.

But the blustering fellow cared nothing at all about that as he drove rudely against them, slapping their faces and blinding their eyes with eddies of dust; on the contrary, after he had swept forwards like a tornado for a matter of fifty yards or so he paused, as if in search of some fresh devilment, and espied a girl beating her way up the street and carrying a roll of music rather loosely in the crook of her arm.  In an instant he had snatched the roll away and sent the sheets spread-eagling up the street, looking like so many big white butterflies as they flapped and whirled deliriously hither and thither.

The girl made an ineffectual grab at them and then dashed in pursuit, while a small greengrocer’s boy, whose time was his master’s (ergo, his own), joined in the chase with enthusiasm.