‘Naturally. He will flatter and fool her till—were it only from sheer vanity—she will ultimately find him necessary to her existence. I knew he had only to persevere in order to win her. I told him so last summer.’ ‘And Edgar is grateful to you for encouraging him when he was inclined to despair. He told me so yesterday. But do not let us talk of Daphne all the time. I want you to tell me about yourself. How good it was of you to come down to say good-bye!’ ‘Could I do less, dearest? Good-byes are always painful, even when the parting is to be of the briefest, as in this case: but from the moment I knew you wished to see me it was my duty to come.’ ‘Can you stay here to-night?’ ‘I can stay exactly ten minutes, and no more. I have to catch the half-past six express.’ ‘You are not going to the Abbey?’ ‘No. I have written to my steward, and I am such a _roi fainéant_ at the best of times that my coming or going makes very little difference. I leave the new hot-houses under your care and governance, subject to MacCloskie, who governs you. All their contents are to be for the separate use and maintenance of your rooms while I am away.’ ‘I shall be smothered with flowers.’ ‘May there be never a thorn among them! And now, love, adieu. This time to-morrow I shall be steaming out of the Mersey. I have to see that Dickson has not come to grief in the preparation of my outfit. A man wants a world of strange things for Canada, according to the outfitters. My own love, good-bye!’ ‘Good-bye, Gerald dearest, best, good-bye. Every wind that blows will make me miserable while you are on the sea. You’ll let me know directly you arrive, won’t you? You’ll put me out of my misery as soon as you can?’ ‘I’ll cable the hour I land.’ ‘That will be so good of you,’ she said, going with him to the door. How calm and clear the frosty evening looked! how vivid the steely stars up yonder above the feathery tree-tops! how peaceful and happy all the world! ‘God bless you, dear one!’ said each to each, as they kissed their parting kiss—both hearts so heavy; but one so pure and free from guile; the other so weighed down by secret cares that could not be told. CHAPTER XXIV. ‘AY FLETH THE TIME, IT WOL NO MAN ABIDE.’ Nearly six months had gone since that wintry parting, when the lovers clasped hands and blessed each other under the sign of Aries; and now it was midsummer, and all the fields were green, and the limes were breaking into blossom, and the hawthorn-flower was dead, and the last of the blue-bells had faded, and all the white orchard-blooms, the tender loveliness of spring, belonged to the past; for the beauty of earth and nature is a thing of perpetual change, so closely allied with death that in every rapture there is the beginning of a regret.