“Yes, at once, please. I’ll ask you to tie it rather tighter, if you don’t mind the sight of blood. I always think blood is such a beautiful colour,” he chattered on, to prevent her apologising further. “One talks of a blood-red sunset and admires it, and dragon’s-blood china; but when it comes to the real article, so many people shrink from it. That’s better, thanks; that’s excellent. I assure you it is nothing at all.” His manner was so entirely natural that there was nothing left for her except to be natural too; and they walked on out of the cool, green-shadowed path, flecked here and there with the sunshine that filtered through the trees that met above them, into the blaze and brightness of the fields that bordered the church-yard. “Yes, the cry of Magda for her right to her own individuality,” he said. “At last this generation has said, ‘I will lead my own life, not the life dictated to me by other people.’ I wonder what we shall make of it.” Helen looked at him again, eagerly. “And do you mean that the assertion of one’s own individuality is a duty?” she asked. “Ah, that is a difficult question. Certainly, I think there are--are indications that one is supposed to play one’s hand for all it’s worth. But duty? Probably you and I mean different things by it.” “I mean the will of God for me,” she said, simply. They paused at the gate into the church-yard, and their eyes met. It seemed to Frank that she waited for his answer with some eagerness. And he shook his head. “No, I don’t mean that,” he said. She held out her hand to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “So am I, very sorry, indeed. But I can’t help it.” Her eyes wandered over the woods behind him. Then came back to his face. “No, I recognise that,” she said. “Good-bye, Lord Yorkshire. Thank you so much for coming with me. And please have your finger attended to.” She smiled at him and went up the church-yard path towards the shining corrugated-iron Room. As she passed the walk leading to the vicarage, she met her father. “You are nearly ten minutes late, Helen,” he said. “I know, dear. I am sorry. But you know you are late, too.” He did not smile. “I was detained by other parish work,” he said. “I was not amusing myself. Pray do not delay any longer.”