"Not yet." "I think you ought to write to her." "I was waiting until I had seen you again, and made quite sure---- "And you are sure now?" "I feel now that we shall always be together, gazing out on the world." "And finding it so wonderful." They were silent then, and in each for other was the same song of life and love, a music passing thought and understanding. So they remained for a time that was no time, hardly conscious of their bodies whose slight contact gave them strength for flight. Easily they ranged back in spirit to their youth, and caught up its sweetness and melody. They were broken in upon by Miss Cleethorpe, a pale, gray-haired lady whose eyes smiled kindly amusement at their helplessness. Bringing help to the helpless and forcing them to help themselves was the whole practice of her life. Lovers, dogs, indigent young women, were the material in which she worked. She was presented to René, and gave him a grip of the hand that startled him with its vigor. Turning to Cathleen, she said: "The girls have sent up a deputation to me to say you have had a man in your room for the last two hours, that it is against the rules, and that it is not quite proper. Ten minutes they could have overlooked. I said that Mr. Fourmy was a very old friend, and that I knew all about it, but they insisted that I must come and chaperone you, and here I am. Speaks well for my authority, doesn't it?" René was so distressed at the thought of the young women contemning Cathleen that he was almost speechless. He muttered that he must go. "You mustn't go," said Lotta, "before I have thanked you for what you have done for Cathleen. She came home last night looking perfectly radiant--and look at her now." (She had turned up the lights.) Cathleen was standing with her hands lightly clasped in front of her, her head thrown back, her lips parted, and in her eyes a golden tenderness. She smiled and shook her head slowly, and came to her friend and kissed her. Lotta put her arms round her and hugged her. "You two poor sillies," she said, "what a heavy burden you have shouldered." René grinned: "I don't feel the weight of it," he said. Lotta gazed full at him. He met her eyes, searching him. "Are you going back to your stables?" she asked. "I want two more days of this." "Would you like to take it down to the country? There's a west wind blowing over my hills, and winter is coming in." Like children, René and Cathleen gazed at each other in surprised delight. III THE WEST WIND Days, that in spite Of darkness, by the light Of a clear mind are day all night