One sweet
prolonged swell, and it died away. She listened for more, but all was
silent. She looked out of the window at the stars in the clear sky, and
the dark shadow of St. Michael's tower on the snow-covered college roof,
then fell back among the pillows to sleep and dream.
She was walking again on the old path by the road-side at home, just as
she used to go every evening for the milk. The dusk was deepening and
she began to hurry, when she noticed a tall, dark figure ahead. As she
drew nearer she recognized Arthur's broad shoulders and well-set head.
Then a strange, indefinable fear seized her. She did not want to
overtake him, to meet him face to face. She tried to slacken her steps,
but a mysterious, resistless wind seemed to bear her forward against her
will. Not a leaf stirred. All was still around her, and yet that
uncanny, spirit-like wind urged her on. She struggled, and although
Arthur never looked back, she felt that he knew all about her struggles.
At last she made one mighty effort and tore herself free. She took the
path on the other side of the road. It was all quiet there, and she
walked on slowly. The darkness grew thicker, and she lost sight of
Arthur.
Pages:
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95