about Richard, who now has a right to his freedom. I felt we were deceiving him before."
"Sue, you seem when you are like this to be one of the women of some grand old civilization, whom I used to read about in my by-gone, wasted, classical days, rather than a denizen of a mere Christian country. I almost expect you to say at these times that you have just been talking to some friend whom you met in the Via Sacra about the latest news of Octavia or Livia, or have been listening to Aspasia's eloquence, or have been watching Praxiteles chiselling away at his latest Venus, while Phryne made complaint that she was tired of posing."
They had now reached the house of the parish-clerk. Sue stood back, while her lover went up to the door. His hand was raised to knock, when she said, "Jude!"
He looked round.
"Wait a minute, would you mind?"
He came back to her.
"Just let us think," she said, timidly. "I had such a horrid dream one night.... And Arabella—"
"What did Arabella say to you?" he asked.
"Oh, she said that when people were tied up you could get the law of a man better if he beat you—and how, when couples quarrelled.... Jude, do you think that when you must have me with you by law, we shall be so happy as we are now? The men and women of our family are very generous when everything depends upon their goodwill, but they always kick against compulsion. Don't you dread the attitude that insensibly arises out of legal obligation? Don't you think it is destructive to a passion whose essence is its gratuitousness?"
"Upon my word, love, you are beginning to frighten me, too, with all this foreboding! Well, let's go back and think it over."
Her face brightened. "Yes—so we will!" said she. And they turned from the clerk's door, Sue taking his arm and murmuring as they walked on homeward:
