She burst into tears, unable to suffer this new denizen of her heart, the sure and certain hope of bliss.  He kissed away the tears as they fell, whispering love that was near to frenzy.  There came a Bob that shook her whole frame, then Wilfrid felt her cheek grow very cold against his; her eyes were half closed, from her lips escaped a faint moan.  He drew back and, uncertain whether she had lost consciousness, called to her to speak.  Her body could not fall, for it rested against a hollow part of the great trunk.  The faintness lasted only for a few moments; she once more gazed at him with the eyes of infinite sadness.

‘It is so hard to bear happiness,’ were her first words.

’My dearest, you are weak and worn with trouble.  Oh, we will soon leave that far behind us.  Are you better, my lily?  Only give me your hands to hold, and I will be very still.  Your hands are so light; they weigh no more than leaves.  Do you suffer, dear?’

‘A little pain—­there;’ she touched her heart.

Wilfrid looked into her face anxiously.

‘Have you often that pain?’

’No, not often.  I don’t feel it now.  Wilfrid!  Every day I have spoken that name, have spoken it aloud.’

‘So have I often spoken yours, dear.’

They gazed at each other in silence.

‘And it is to be as I wish?’ Wilfrid said gently.

‘So very soon?’

’So very long!  This is only Saturday.  If I had known this morning, it could have been on Monday.’

‘Your wife, Wilfrid?  Really your wife?’

’How your voice has changed!  Till now you spoke so sadly.  Those words are like the happiest of our old happy time.  Three long days to be passed, but not one day more.  You promise me?’

‘I do your bidding, now and always, always!’

For the moment she had forgotten everything but love and love’s rapture.  It was as though life spread before her in limitless glory; she thought nothing of the dark foe with whose ever-watchful, ever-threatening presence she had become so familiar.

They talked long; only the lengthening and deepening shadow of the trees reminded them at length that hours had passed whilst they sat here.

‘The boat will have gone,’ Emily said.

’Never mind.  We will get a conveyance at the hotel.  And you must have refreshment of some kind.  Shall we see what they can give us to eat at the King’s Arms?  To be sure we will.  It will be our first meal together.’

They rose.

‘Emily!’

‘Yes, Wilfrid?’

‘I can trust you?  You will not fail me?’

‘Not if I am living, Wilfrid.’

’Oh, but I shall of course see you before Wednesday.  To-morrow is Sunday—­’

He checked himself.  Sunday was the day he always gave to Beatrice.  But he durst not think of that now.

‘On Sunday there are so many people about,’ he continued.  ’Will you come here again on Monday afternoon?’