"Let's have tea. I was asleep. I didn't hear you come." She sank into one of the large chairs, her thin accordion pleated black silk tea-gown billowing out round her squared little body. Even her shoulders looked broader and squarer. From the little pleated white chiffon chemisette her radiant firm little head rose up, her hair glinting under the light of the window behind her. She looked so fine--such a "fine spectacle"--and seemed so strong. How did she feel? Mrs. Thimm brought the teapot. The moment she had gone Harriett handed the rich cakes. Mrs. Thimm _beaming_, shedding strong beams of happiness and approval.... "Come on" said Harriett. "Let's tuck in. There's some thin bread and butter somewhere but I can't eat anything but these things." "Can't you?" "The last time I went up to town Mrs. Bollingdon and I had six between us at Slater's and when we got back we had another tea." "Fancy _you_!" "I know. I can't '_elp_ it." "I can't 'elp it, Micky. _Love_lay b-hird." The fourth cup of creamy tea; Harriett's firm ringed hand; the gleaming serene world; the sunlit flower-filled garden shaded at the far end by the large tree the other side of the fence coming in, one with the room; the sun going to set and bring the evening freshness and rise to-morrow. Twenty-eight leisurely teas, twenty-eight long days; a feeling of strength and drowsiness. Nothing to do but clean the bicycle and pump up the tyres on the lawn, to-morrow. Nothing--after carrying the bicycle from the coal cellar up the area steps and through the house into the Tansley Street back yard. Nothing more but setting out after two nights of sleep in a cool room. 3 "That your machine in the yard, Mirry?" "Yes; I've hired it, thirty bob for the whole month." "Well, if you're going a sixty mile ride on it I advise you to tighten up the nuts a bit." "I will if you'll show me where they are. I've got a lovely spanner. Did you look in the wallet?" "I'll have a look at it all over if you like." "Oh Gerald you saint...." "Now he's happy," said Harriett as Gerald's white flannelled figure flashed into the sunlight and disappeared through the yard gate. "Ph--how hot it is; it's this summer-house." "Let's go outside if you like," said Miriam lazily, "it seems to me simply perfect in here." "It's all right--ph--it's hot everywhere," said Harriett languidly. She mopped her face. Her face emerged from her handkerchief fever-flushed, the eyes large and dark and brilliant; her lips full and drawn in and down at the corners with a look of hopeless anxiety. Anger flushed through Miriam. Harriett at nineteen, in the brilliant beauty of the summer afternoon facing hopeless fear. "That's an awfully pretty dress" she faltered nervously. Harriett set her lips and stretched both arms along the elbows of her basket chair. "You could have it made into an evening gown." "I loathe the very sight of it. I shall burn it the minute I've done with it."