Guy caught her to him; and into that kiss the fiery sky entered, so that Pauline let fall her ragged-robins and they lay limp in the grass and were trodden under foot. "Pauline, I have a ring for you," he whispered. "Will you wear it when we are alone?" She took the thin circlet set with a crystal and put it on her finger. Then with passionate arms she held him to her heart; the caress burned his lips like a flaming torch; the crystal flashed with hectic gleams, a basilisk, a perilous orient gem. "We must go home," she whispered. "Oh, Guy, I feel frightened of this evening." "Pauline, my burning rose," he whispered. And all the way back into the crimson sunset they talked still in whispers, and of those rain-drenched ragged-robins there was not one they carried home. La belle Dame sans mercy hath thee in thrall! La belle Dame sans mercy hath thee in thrall! La belle Dame sans mercy hath thee in thrall! The words did not cool Guy's pillow that night, but they led him by strange ways into a fevered sleep. SUMMER JUNE When Pauline reached the Rectory dinner had already begun in the mixture of candle-light and rosy dusk that seemed there more than anything to mark Summer's instant approach, and as with flushed cheeks she took her place at table she was conscious of an atmosphere that was half disapproval, half anxiety; or was it that she, disapproving of herself, expected criticism? Positively there was an emotion of being on her defense; she felt propitiatory and apologetic; and for the first time she was sharply aware of herself and her family as two distinct facts. It was to dispel this uneasy sense of potential division that she took up her violin with a faintly exaggerated willingness, and that, instead of dreaming of Guy in a corner of the room, she played all the evening in the same spirit of wanting to please. Her mother asked if she had enjoyed her walk, and Pauline had positively to fight with herself before she could answer lightly enough that the walk had been perfect. Why was her heart beating like this, and why did her sisters regard her so gravely? It must be her fancy, and almost defiantly she continued: "There was no harm in my going out with Guy, was there? We've not been together at all lately." "Why should there be any particular harm this evening?" Monica inquired. "Of course not, Monica," and again her heart was beating furiously. "I only asked because I thought you all seemed angry with me for being a little late for dinner." "I don't know why we should suddenly be sensitive about punctuality in this house," said Margaret.