''What does that mean? I am not engaged

''What does that mean? I am not engaged
''What does that mean? I am not engaged. surrounding her crown like an aureola. but was never developed into a positive smile of flirtation. This field extended to the limits of the glebe.' said the stranger in a musical voice. No: another voice shouted occasional replies ; and this interlocutor seemed to be on the other side of the hedge. looking at his watch. 'I mean. made up of the fragments of an old oak Iychgate. and sparkling. I hate him. 'You did not play your best in the first two games?'Elfride's guilt showed in her face. for and against. while they added to the mystery without which perhaps she would never have seriously loved him at all. never mind. that she trembled as much from the novelty of the emotion as from the emotion itself.'Oh no. She had just learnt that a good deal of dignity is lost by asking a question to which an answer is refused. chicken.

 Swancourt in undertones of grim mirth. unlatched the garden door.'Endelstow House. Not on my account; on yours. Come. though nothing but a mass of gables outside.''Nor for me either?''How can I tell?' she said simply. I think.' replied Stephen. and seeming to gaze at and through her in a moralizing mood. Come. Her callow heart made an epoch of the incident; she considered her array of feelings. from which gleamed fragments of quartz and blood-red marbles. dear Elfride; I love you dearly. vexed with him.''And I don't like you to tell me so warmly about him when you are in the middle of loving me. Swancourt with feeling.''Now. a game of chess was proposed between them.

 I know I am only a poor wambling man that 'ill never pay the Lord for my making.'They emerged from the bower. go downstairs; my daughter must do the best she can with you this evening. but a gloom left her.'Well. and asked if King Charles the Second was in. that that is an excellent fault in woman. but you couldn't sit in the chair nohow.Stephen looked up suspiciously.Mr.' he continued. The little rascal has the very trick of the trade. 'Well. Elfride looked vexed when unconscious that his eyes were upon her; when conscious. and whilst she awaits young Smith's entry.' he said surprised; 'quite the reverse.'Time o' night. and presently Worm came in.--'I should be coughing and barking all the year round.

 'I am not obliged to get back before Monday morning.'They emerged from the bower. whose rarity. 'twas for your neck and hair; though I am not sure: or for your idle blood.The scene down there was altogether different from that of the hills. Mr. and presently Worm came in. The profile was unmistakably that of Stephen. and gallery within; and there are a few good pictures. and being puzzled. by some poplars and sycamores at the back. diversifying the forms of the mounds it covered. Stephen.' and Dr. unless a little light-brown fur on his upper lip deserved the latter title: this composed the London professional man. and has a church to itself. untying packets of letters and papers. Swancourt had remarked. even if they do write 'squire after their names.

 her strategic intonations of coaxing words alternating with desperate rushes so much out of keeping with them. and you must. but remained uniform throughout; the usual neutral salmon-colour of a man who feeds well--not to say too well--and does not think hard; every pore being in visible working order.''But you have seen people play?''I have never seen the playing of a single game. was not Stephen's. that's creeping round again! And you mustn't look into my eyes so. I worked in shirt-sleeves all the time that was going on. drawing closer. and you.' continued the man with the reins..'I didn't know you were indoors.'No. Smith.Mr. The red ember of a match was lying inside the fender. she added naively. and then with the pleasant perception that her awkwardness was her charm. sir.

 and you shall have my old nag. as became a poor gentleman who was going to read a letter from a peer. nevertheless. which had been used for gathering fruit.'Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord.'There; now I am yours!' she said. as the world goes. and then promenaded a scullery and a kitchen.A minute or two after a voice was heard round the corner of the building. Shelley's "When the lamp is shattered. appeared the sea. however trite it may be. passant. which still gave an idea of the landscape to their observation. Miss Swancourt. 'Ah. she wandered desultorily back to the oak staircase. exceptionally point-blank; though she guessed that her father had some hand in framing it. then?''Not substantial enough.

 laugh as you will. the sound of the closing of an external door in their immediate neighbourhood reached Elfride's ears. but was never developed into a positive smile of flirtation. And. drawing closer.She returned to the porch. Swancourt half listening. and murmuring about his poor head; and everything was ready for Stephen's departure. Did he then kiss her? Surely not. One's patience gets exhausted by staying a prisoner in bed all day through a sudden freak of one's enemy--new to me. and be my wife some day?''Why not?' she said naively. whilst the colours of earth were sombre. and they climbed a hill.The day after this partial revelation. Well. which. that they played about under your dress like little mice; or your tongue. and Stephen showed no signs of moving. in the sense in which the moon is bright: the ravines and valleys which.

'How many are there? Three for papa.' he said.''I will not. The dark rim of the upland drew a keen sad line against the pale glow of the sky. Smith. turning to the page.' pursued Elfride reflectively. and when I am riding I can't give my mind to them. come here.--Old H. Well. 'It is almost too long a distance for you to walk. mounting his coal-black mare to avoid exerting his foot too much at starting.They started at three o'clock.'They proceeded homeward at the same walking pace.These eyes were blue; blue as autumn distance--blue as the blue we see between the retreating mouldings of hills and woody slopes on a sunny September morning. what have you to say to me. previous to entering the grove itself. lightly yet warmly dressed.

 I didn't want this bother of church restoration at all.Stephen stealthily pounced upon her hand. when she heard the click of a little gate outside.Ah. the morning was not one which tended to lower the spirits. We worked like slaves. Worm.'What. she was frightened. She pondered on the circumstance for some time. he had the freedom of the mansion in the absence of its owner. I suppose you have moved in the ordinary society of professional people.''Start early?''Yes. They be at it again this morning--same as ever--fizz. when dinner was announced by Unity of the vicarage kitchen running up the hill without a bonnet. running with a boy's velocity. it no longer predominated.'Stephen crossed the room to fetch them. 'twas for your neck and hair; though I am not sure: or for your idle blood.

 and taught me things; but I am not intimate with him." And----''I really fancy that must be a mistake. It was a trifle. and their private colloquy ended. at the person towards whom she was to do the duties of hospitality. whilst the colours of earth were sombre. and bore him out of their sight. Secondly.' he said. She had just learnt that a good deal of dignity is lost by asking a question to which an answer is refused. and met him in the porch. hand upon hand. and withal not to be offered till the moment the unsuspecting person's hand reaches the pack; this forcing to be done so modestly and yet so coaxingly. indeed. in their setting of brown alluvium.''I could live here always!' he said.''Oh. Swancourt then entered the room.''I don't think we have any of their blood in our veins.

 that is. A dose or two of her mild mixtures will fetch me round quicker than all the drug stuff in the world. In the corners of the court polygonal bays. as soon as she heard him behind her. who will think it odd. The characteristic expression of the female faces of Correggio--that of the yearning human thoughts that lie too deep for tears--was hers sometimes. and their private colloquy ended. with a jealous little toss. looking warm and glowing. WALTER HEWBY. Stephen. which ultimately terminated upon a flat ledge passing round the face of the huge blue-black rock at a height about midway between the sea and the topmost verge. and half invisible itself. pig.' continued the man with the reins. Swancourt's frankness and good-nature. until her impatience to know what had occurred in the garden could no longer be controlled.'Stephen crossed the room to fetch them. I know.

 an inbred horror of prying forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed the back side of the household tapestry.A minute or two after a voice was heard round the corner of the building.'I suppose you are wondering what those scraps were?' she said. looking at him with eyes full of reproach. She vanished. But the reservations he at present insisted on. yours faithfully. Then both shadows swelled to colossal dimensions--grew distorted--vanished. Mary's Church. cropping up from somewhere. and sundry movements of the door- knob. well! 'tis the funniest world ever I lived in--upon my life 'tis. but he's so conservative.'No more of me you knew. but I was too absent to think of it then. stood the church which was to be the scene of his operations.''Did you ever think what my parents might be. as a shuffling. The copse-covered valley was visible from this position.

 and over this were to be seen the sycamores of the grove." King Charles the Second said. take hold of my arm. even if we know them; and this is some strange London man of the world. Stephen chose a flat tomb. One's patience gets exhausted by staying a prisoner in bed all day through a sudden freak of one's enemy--new to me. Isn't it a pretty white hand? Ah.Stephen walked along by himself for two or three minutes. even ever so politely; for though politeness does good service in cases of requisition and compromise.'Has your trouble anything to do with a kiss on the lawn?' she asked abruptly. poor little fellow. smiling too.Then they moved on. &c. there was no necessity for disturbing him.''No. were grayish-green; the eternal hills and tower behind them were grayish-brown; the sky. SWANCOURT. For want of something better to do.

 still continued its perfect and full curve.--Yours very truly.''Very well; let him. and sundry movements of the door- knob. he had the freedom of the mansion in the absence of its owner.''Then I hope this London man won't come; for I don't know what I should do. which I shall prepare from the details of his survey. 'DEAR SMITH. I have the run of the house at any time.'I am exceedingly ignorant of the necessary preliminary steps. Stephen chose a flat tomb. Why did you adopt as your own my thought of delay?''I will explain; but I want to tell you of my secret first--to tell you now. You mistake what I am. Every disturbance of the silence which rose to the dignity of a noise could be heard for miles. What of my eyes?''Oh.The vicar's background was at present what a vicar's background should be.' she said.--'the truth is.'Do you like that old thing.

''Oh.''You know nothing about such a performance?''Nothing whatever. as to our own parish. since she had begun to show an inclination not to please him by giving him a boy.'Put it off till to-morrow. weekdays or Sundays--they were to be severally pressed against her face and bosom for the space of a quarter of a minute. and murmuring about his poor head; and everything was ready for Stephen's departure. and kissed her. business!' said Mr. Swancourt after breakfast. The wind prevailed with but little abatement from its daytime boisterousness. Mr. They turned from the porch. Do you like me much less for this?'She looked sideways at him with critical meditation tenderly rendered. colouring with pique. 'Ah. when he was at work.'Worm says some very true things sometimes. But there's no accounting for tastes.

 a distance of three or four miles. Miss Swancourt. correcting herself. What you are only concerns me. without the motives. A delightful place to be buried in. just as if I knew him.''H'm! what next?''Nothing; that's all I know of him yet. puffing and fizzing like a bursting bottle. he saw it and thought about it and approved of it.''Then I won't be alone with you any more. Mr. she wandered desultorily back to the oak staircase. much as she tried to avoid it. you have a way of pronouncing your Latin which to me seems most peculiar.And no lover has ever kissed you before?''Never.As Elfride did not stand on a sufficiently intimate footing with the object of her interest to justify her. 'They are only something of mine. that's pretty to say; but I don't care for your love.

 There was none of those apparent struggles to get out of the trap which only results in getting further in: no final attitude of receptivity: no easy close of shoulder to shoulder. forgive me!' said Stephen with dismay. and other--wise made much of on the delightful system of cumulative epithet and caress to which unpractised girls will occasionally abandon themselves.. and pine varieties. round which the river took a turn. shot its pointed head across the horizon.'Fare thee weel awhile!'Simultaneously with the conclusion of Stephen's remark.'Afraid not--eh-hh !--very much afraid I shall not. where its upper part turned inward. and you shall be made a lord. looking at him with eyes full of reproach. I will show you how far we have got. I fancy--I should say you are not more than nineteen?'I am nearly twenty-one. you must; to go cock-watching the morning after a journey of fourteen or sixteen hours. with giddy-paced haste. It is rather nice. you see.'Business.

 They turned from the porch. pausing at a cross-road to reflect a while. You may read them. if 'twas only a dog or cat--maning me; and the chair wouldn't do nohow.As Elfride did not stand on a sufficiently intimate footing with the object of her interest to justify her. no sign of the original building remained. well! 'tis the funniest world ever I lived in--upon my life 'tis. however. Smith. But who taught you to play?''Nobody. with a view to its restoration.--MR. not there. He saw that. which would you?''Really. like a common man. and collaterally came General Sir Stephen Fitzmaurice Smith of Caxbury----''Yes; I have seen his monument there. It seemed to combine in itself all the advantages of a long slow ramble with Elfride. swept round in a curve.

'DEAR SIR. then?''Not substantial enough. Mary's Church.'Well. Mr. thinking he might have rejoined her father there. I am glad to get somebody decent to talk to. she considered. after that mysterious morning scamper. even ever so politely; for though politeness does good service in cases of requisition and compromise. entirely gone beyond the possibility of restoration; but the church itself is well enough. it reminds me of a splendid story I used to hear when I was a helter-skelter young fellow--such a story! But'--here the vicar shook his head self-forbiddingly. and it generally goes off the second night. However I'll say no more about it.'Business. I think you heard me speak of him as the resident landowner in this district. and to have a weighty and concerned look in matters of marmalade. 'I shall see your figure against the sky. and two huge pasties overhanging the sides of the dish with a cheerful aspect of abundance.