At such a time my boy did not need to be told twice. As I sank exhausted against a tree, he stole forward; I heard him calling her softly by name. If I could, I would have hurried out of ear-shot, for whatever he said was sacred to the two of them; but I expected every moment to faint with my unaccustomed exertion... "Phyllida... Darling Phyllida," he began. I do not mind telling _you_, because you are always discreet and, when reverence is demanded, you will be reverent... I thought I knew my boy, but there are depths of tenderness in a man which he never shews to his own mother... "Phyllida, darling Phyllida, won't you let me comfort you? If you break your heart, you will break mine too. You know that I have always loved you, and that gives me the right to comfort you when you are unhappy. Whatever other people may do to you or say to you, I am always here for you to turn to..." I cannot go on... Already I have said more than I ought. Will you think your old friend very foolish if she confesses that for a moment she forgot that she was old? Time slipped from my shoulders, and I saw once again a young girl in that very garden, not a hundred yards from where I was standing... Dear Phyllida, I suppose, would think her a very funny, old-fashioned creature, but I did not seem so then--certainly to Arthur... A young girl in a white dress with a young man pleading at her feet until his voice broke and he said: "It's no good, I can't go on." And then he threw his arms about me... And I remember my dear father coming on to the terrace and calling out to me. And Arthur seized my hand and _strode_ forward with his head among the _stars_... Brackenbury--he is fourteen years my junior--was already in bed, but we insisted on going upstairs to tell him the news. Life was a very glorious thing that night. I walked on air; and, if any one had told me that it was a thing of greed and cruelty and ingratitude and mean passions, I should have laughed him to scorn... Forgive me... I am sentimental, no doubt, but if we _have_ the opportunity of feeling our heart warming... Of late years... I have lost the thread... Ah, yes! I crept away, leaving them together, with the murmur of my boy's divine sympathy still in my ears. At first I walked aimlessly, trying to keep my mind _blank_ until I was competent to think of anything. What _would_ happen now? ... In time I found myself on the lawn once more, and the sight of the river reminded me of duty still left undone. I had to find Brackenbury and tell him that his child was safe and in good hands... I remember wondering, trying to make up my mind what I should think if this _crise_ shewed Phyllida that it was Will she wanted to marry...