She laughed and looked at him as he stood there flushed, his eyes triumphant, with an unpremeditated approval. In church, in the gallery, with his face foreshortened, he had been effective in a way, but this was different. "Show me," she said, though she knew this was the only place for blackthorn for a mile in either direction. "I _knew_ I should see you," he said, by way of answer, "I felt sure I should see you to-day." "It was our last chance almost," she answered with as frank a quality of avowal. "I'm going home to London on Monday." "I knew," he cried in triumph. "To Clapham?" he asked. "Yes. I have got a situation. You did not know that I was a shorthand clerk and typewriter, did you? I am. I have just left the school, the Grogram School. And now there is an old gentleman who wants an amanuensis." "So you know shorthand?" said he. "That accounts for the stylographic pen. Those lines were written.... I have them still." She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Here," said Mr. Lewisham, tapping his breast-pocket. "This lane," he said--their talk was curiously inconsecutive--"some way along this lane, over the hill and down, there is a gate, and that goes--I mean, it opens into the path that runs along the river bank. Have you been?" "No," she said. "It's the best walk about Whortley. It brings you out upon Immering Common. You _must_--before you go." "_Now_?" she said with her eyes dancing. "Why not?" "I told Mrs. Frobisher I should be back by four," she said. "It's a walk not to be lost." "Very well," said she. "The trees are all budding," said Mr. Lewisham, "the rushes are shooting, and all along the edge of the river there are millions of little white flowers floating on the water, _I_ don't know the names of them, but they're fine.... May I carry that branch of blossom?" As he took it their hands touched momentarily ... and there came another of those significant gaps. "Look at those clouds," said Lewisham abruptly, remembering the remark he had been about to make and waving the white froth of blackthorn, "And look at the blue between them." "It's perfectly splendid. Of all the fine weather the best has been kept for now. My last day. My very last day." And off these two young people went together in a highly electrical state--to the infinite astonishment of Mrs. Frobisher, who was looking out of the attic window--stepping out manfully and finding the whole world lit and splendid for their entertainment. The things they discovered and told each other that afternoon down by the river!--that spring was wonderful, young leaves beautiful, bud scales astonishing things, and clouds dazzling and stately!--with an air of supreme originality! And their naïve astonishment to find one another in agreement upon these novel delights! It seemed to them quite outside the play of accident that they should have met each other.