form—aware also of a fuchsia tree, with dangling scarlet and purple flowers.

“How nice the fuchsias are!” she said, to break the silence.

“Aren’t they! Did you think I had forgotten what I said?”

A swoon went over Ursula’s mind.

“I don’t want you to remember it—if you don’t want to,” she struggled to say, through the dark mist that covered her.

There was silence for some moments.

“No,” he said. “It isn’t that. Only—if we are going to know each other, we must pledge ourselves for ever. If we are going to make a relationship, even of friendship, there must be something final and infallible about it.”

There was a clang of mistrust and almost anger in his voice. She did not answer. Her heart was too much