That clearly was the last word on the subject, and even as he spoke the rim of the moon a week from full topped the beech-wood, and flooded the garden with silver, and both watched in silence till the three-quarter circle swung clear of the trees. Just a month ago Evelyn had watched it rising with Madge on the terrace of Philip's house, and the sight of it now made the last month pass in review before him like some scene that moved behind the actors, as in the first act in _Parsifal_. The light it shed to-day seemed to flash back and illumine the whole of those weeks, and showed him how in darkness that plant had grown which to-day had flowered rose-coloured and perfect. Every day since then, when the seed had first been planted in his soul, had it shot up towards the light; there had been no day, so he felt now, on which the growth had stood still; it had been uninterrupted from the first germination to this its full flower. But the last word had been spoken, and when the moon had cleared the tree-tops, Merivale turned to him. "I seldom sleep in the house," he said, "and I certainly shall not to-night." "Where then?" asked the other. "Oh, anywhere, often in several places. In fact, I seldom wake in the morning where I go to bed in the evening." "Sleep-walking?" suggested Evelyn. "Oh, dear no! But you know all animals wake in the night and turn over, or get up for a few moments and take a mouthful of grass. Well, the same thing happens to me. I always wake about three in the morning, and walk about a little, and, as I say, usually go to sleep again somewhere else. But I suppose the dignity of man asserts itself, and I often go further than animals. For instance, I shall probably go to sleep in the hammock in the garden, and walk up into the beech-wood when I wake for the first time." "Ah, that does sound rather nice," said Evelyn appreciatively. "Well, come and sleep out too. It will do you all the good in the world. You can have the hammock; I'll lie on the grass. I always have a rug." But Evelyn's appreciation was not of the practical sort. "Heaven forbid!" he said. "My bedroom is good enough for me." It was already late, and he took a candle and went upstairs, Merivale following him to see he had all he wanted. His servant, however, had arranged the utmost requirements in the most convenient way, and the sight suddenly suggested a new criticism to Evelyn. "Keeping a servant, too," he said. "Is not that frightfully inconsistent?" Merivale laughed. "You don't suppose I keep a servant when I am alone?" he asked. "But I find I am so bad at looking after the requirements of my guests that I hire one if anyone happens to be here. He is a man from the hotel at Brockenhurst." "I apologise," said the other. "But do dismiss him to-morrow. For I didn't want to come to an hotel; I wanted to see how the Hermit really lived." "Stop over to-morrow then, and you will see," said Merivale. "But I keep a woman in the house, who cooks."