For in good truth, notwithstanding the dominion of his fixed idea, Laurence was determined on the improvement of his somewhat neglected estate. Every afternoon saw him ride forth to visit farm or distant hamlet, to superintend operations of fencing, draining, or building, to mark wood and copse-land for future cutting. Specially was he interested in the construction of a light railway from Stoke Rivers Road to some gypsum quarries at Hazledown, about three miles distant, the worth of which would be doubled by direct and permanent means of transport. Silent and self-absorbed for the most part, he rode about the charming Sussex country while the gay, spring weather matured into the glow and heat of summer. And all the while against his heart lay the poignant delight of a great romance, and in his eyes sat the light of a great adventure. He was very happy, so happy that, while he longed for the attainment of his purpose and strained every nerve to accomplish it, he almost dreaded that accomplishment since it must rob him of the sweet and gracious present. And that such accomplishment drew on as the summer went forward he could not doubt. For his fairy-lady had grown less timid than of old, braving now the earlier dusk, now the later dawn, as the fancy took her; while a veritable shadow clung unquestionably to her little feet, and lengthened behind or beside her. Though no less slender and graceful than before, her person was less ethereal. It appeared to gain a certain substance, a greater opacity; while her movements were more measured. Once or twice Laurence had fancied he saw her pale face flush under sudden emotion, as though blood once more began to course beneath the clear, smooth skin. Her talk, moreover, was less of the past than of the present. At times she would ask questions, not wholly easy for him to answer without revealing those things regarding which he had agreed with himself to keep silence. But on many matters he had come to speak to her freely, telling her of his daily occupations and affairs, of the books he read, even of passing events of public interest. And to all his talk she listened now thoughtfully, now with pretty mirth, offering not only sympathy, but discreet counsel, while sometimes a touch of far-reaching and singularly mature wisdom gave a significant value to her speech. There were moments, indeed, when Laurence gazed at her in wonder, for she betrayed a depth and daring of thought impossible to a young girl, however good her training and notable her natural talents--thought only possible to one who had discounted the many subterfuges and illusions of life, as most mortals see and live it, by apprehension of things supramundane, eternal, and so of infinite moment to the conscience and the heart.