e we had entered） “all is real； sweet； and pure。”
He strayed down a walk edged with box； with apple trees； pear trees； and cherry trees on one side； and a border on the other full of all sorts of old…fashioned flowers； stocks； sweet…williams； primroses； pansies； mingled with southernwood； sweet…briar； and various fragrant herbs。 They were fresh now as a succession of April showers and gleams； followed by a lovely spring morning； could make them： the sun was just entering the dappled east； and his light illumined the wreathed and dewy orchard trees and shone do。
“Jane； will you have a flower？”
He gathered a half…blown rose； the first on the bush； and offered it to me。
“Thank you； sir。”
“Do you like this sunrise； Jane？ That sky with its high and light clouds which are sure to melt away as the day waxes warm—this placid and balmly atmosphere？”
“I do； very much。”
“You have passed a strange night； Jane。”
“Yes； sir。”
“And it has made you look pale—were you afraid when I left you alone with Mason？”
“I was afraid of some one ing out of the inner room。”
“But I had fastened the door—I had the key in my pocket： I should have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb—my pet lamb—so near a wolf’s den； unguarded： you were safe。”
“Will Grace Poole live here still； sir？”
“Oh yes！ don’t trouble your head about her—put the thing out of your thoughts。”
“Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays。”
“Never fear—I will take care of myself。”
“Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now； sir？”
“I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England： nor even then。 To live； for me； Jane； is to stand on a crater…crust which may crack and spue fire a