Twenty times over he threw his books aside and started up to go, but upon each occasion the indomitable power of will that helped him to make the great efforts to master his profession--a power of will that had already stood him in such good stead during his stay at Saint Chrysostom's--came to his aid, and he fought out the miseries of that last week and won. "I will--not--show--mistrust," he said, sternly, as if addressing an unseen accuser of Sage; "I gave--her--my--love--and-- I--will--never--take--it--from--her. If--she--cast--it--away--then-- the--act--is--hers--not--mine." This, slowly repeated, with a pause between the words, became, as it were, a formula impressed in his mind, and it seemed to him that he had become Sage's advocate, bound to defend her against unseen accusers. At last, having no longer any conscientious reasons for deferring his visit, he hastily packed his bag and closed up his dreary little chambers, feeling, as he went out into busy roaring Fleet-street, that the rest was absolutely necessary, for his head throbbed and seemed confused, troubled as it had been with conflicting emotions. It was winter once more, but one of those mild seasons when balmy winds from the west tempt the wild flowers into a belief that it is spring, and sweetly-scented violets make the air redolent of their homely, heart-appealing fragrance, when from amongst the dark dead leaves the tender green of the crinkled primrose roots could be seen surrounding here and there a pale sulphur blossom. It was such a change from the smoke-haunted, soot-dotted city region of the law, that fifteen-mile coach ride, after the run down by fast train, that as Luke gazed over the flat landscape illumined by the mellow glow of the wintry sun, and noted the silvery bronze of the young oak stems, and the ruddy birch and ashes grey, he felt a joyous elasticity of frame; his pulses throbbed with pleasure, and before they reached the town he determined to alight and follow the mossy lane to the left, two miles of whose windings would take him within a hundred yards of Kilby, the time fitting so well that he knew he should intercept Sage as she left the school, which would not break up for the holidays until the following day. Home again, after many months' absence--months of stern self-denial; and as he leaped down from his seat on the coach, leaving his portmanteau for delivery at the inn, he felt so boyish and light-hearted that he began to run along the lane. "What nonsense!" he said, half aloud. "One shuts oneself up in that little hole and reads and reads till one's brain gets clogged, and full of unwholesome fancies. What a brute I am to let such thoughts creep in, when I'll wager anything that my darling is longing to see me back."