‘Me,’ says Dalrymple, regardless of grammar and looking quite unconscious, ‘never was further from doing anything else, in my life.’

‘May you be forgiven,’ whispers Lippa, who has observed it all—­but aloud she says, ‘Won’t you have some tea.’

‘No thanks, really not,’ replies Helmdon, ’but if I may stay, we may as well tell the fly to go away.’

‘Do,’ says Dalrymple rising, ‘have you got anything with you,’ and together they go back to the house, where Jimmy explains all, including Clotilde, and the kick.

‘Thanks, awfully, old man,’ says Helmdon, ’I couldn’t make it out a bit, what!’

* * * * *

The evening is lovely, and two and two they gradually leave the drawing-room, to Chubby, who, his body in one chair, and his legs in another, is wrapt in peaceful slumbers.  Mabel and her husband walk slowly up and down, before the house discussing their children and friends.

Quite unconsciously Paul and Clotilde take their way to the little church, and pause not till they come to their baby’s grave.  The moon shines down on them, as side by side they stand on the edge of the cliff, the dark ocean stretching out before them, a type of the unknown future that will be theirs.

Paul becomes aware that she is crying, and says, turning her face up to his.  ’My darling, dry your eyes, we have all done wrong, but it is no use dwelling on the past, a future lies before us, in which by God’s help, we will try to atone for the past, “Heaven means crowned not vanquished when it says forgiven."’ For all answer Clotilde goes close to him, and lays her sad weary head against his shoulder.

‘Paul,’ she murmurs, ‘how good you are,’ and then there is a silence more eloquent than words.

In the meantime Jimmy and Philippa hand in hand have reached a cornfield.

‘Let us stop here,’ she says seating herself on a stile.

‘Very well,’ he replies, following her example, ’only we must not stay out too late you know.’

‘No, we won’t,’ says Lippa, ’but Jimmy, dear, don’t you feel awfully happy, because I do.’

‘Sitting on this stile,’ queries he.

‘No, of course not, don’t be stupid, but,’ and she puts her arm round his neck, ’everybody is all right, are they not?  Mabel has her child back, Paul has Clotilde, and oh, Jimmy darling, I’ve got you.’

There is a little sob as she says this.

‘Crying,’ says he, placing his arm round her, ’if you cry when you’re happy, what will you do, when there is really something to cry for, oh you silly child,’ but the look in his eyes belies his words, and Lippa raising hers sees something in them, which makes her draw still closer, till their lips meet.

‘Dearest,’ he whispers.

And then a silence also falls on them, while the calm moon, unmoved at what she sees, still shines on the same, and the distant ripple of the waves breaking on the shore is all that is heard.