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CHAPTER XII.

LADY FLORA Woke early, before daybreak, and found it impossible to go to sleep again. The strange foreglow of dawn looked so attractive that she dressed and descended a silent staircase to the inner hall, where already the houseboys were beginning their labours. The verandahs were still in dusk, but when she had crossed the terrace and reached the lawns on the edge of the hill she came into a patch of pale sunlight and found that the skies were clear and that the sun was rising over the crest of the downs. The place intoxicated her, so quiet it was, so cool and fresh and dewy. She drank great draughts of the delicious air, and wondered why she had never discovered the charm of early rising before. At this hour most people were still wrapt in dull slumber with a doleful getting-up before them when the natural hour should have passed and the world become noisy and common. In this airy

clime one's thoughts must perforce be clear and beautiful. Even a flower-pot looked an exquisite thing with the dew on it and the gold of sunrise on the dew. It occurred to her that it might be well if life were to be so rearranged that all the things which mattered were done before breakfast. Or it might be enough, she reflected, if one could attain to this morning frame of mind and keep it unsullied at all hours. Some creed might give this, or some great passion. And as the girl wandered through the ineffable colours of the awakening day she thought very deeply.

Hugh, coming back from an early gallop on the moor, found her sitting on a sunny corner of a parapet absorbed in thought. His horse shied at the apparition, and the rider, who had been half in a dream himself, promptly came off and disappeared in a bed of lilies. The horse began to graze peaceably, and Hugh, emerging dishevelled and surprised, found that the Muse of Contemplation had changed into a laughing girl.

"The lark now leaves his watery nest,'" she quoted. "When you have shaken your 'dewy wing,' Mr Somerville, you might get one of the garden boys to take back the horse to the stable and come for a walk with me. I've been up

since before daybreak, and I don't a bit want to go back yet."

Hugh commandeered the services of the nearest gardener, and with Lady Flora wandered back across the lawn.

"What brought you out of doors at this time?" he asked.

"Restlessness and this glorious morning. And, once out, I made up my mind that I must find a creed. I had nearly got one when you came tumbling off your horse among the lilies. Do you remember the contract we made our second day here? You were to explain to me all the things I could not understand. Well, I haven't bothered you much, for I found I was cleverer than I thought, and I followed most of the discussions quite easily. But last night Barbara stumped me completely. It wasn't so much what she said, for I understood her meaning more or less, but she and all the others seemed to find so much more in it than I could see. I am not an artist of any kind, or ever likely to be, but I agree with her argument about the new field for art which empire gives. And of course it makes life pleasanter all round to have big horizons and a great deal to do. But in spite of all that Lord Launceston said, I think we are making more out of the creed than reason

allows. Though we deny it in words, yet we behave as if this were a new religion instead of merely a better groundwork for one. We can't turn politics into something which satisfies all our longings and fills all our life."

Hugh looked gravely at his companion. "You have your aunt's appalling clearness of mind. I agree with every word you say. What

next?"

"Well, I want to know how I am to find the trait d'union? For I have become an Imperialist, you know. I have got an interest so absorbing that I do not think I can ever be bored again. I suppose there are things I can do to help, for you said that in our new state no one would be left out of citizenship. But Barbara and Mr Carey and Lord Launceston-but especially Barbara-make me feel as if Imperialism shaded off into all manner of beautiful and far-off things, and I can't see it. I have my own private dreams, but they are my own, and I can't fit them in with politics. I wish I could, for I am sure the happiest people have only one creed which covers everything in their lives."

Hugh began to laugh, but stopped short at the sight of the girl's serious eyes.

"Please forgive me. I didn't mean to be rude, but I was never so surprised before. What you

want is a synthetic philosophy, and that you should want it and know that you want it You are a very remarkable young

staggers me. woman."

"I will not be treated like a child," said Lady Flora indignantly, "and I will not have philosophy talked to me. I agree with Mr Wakefield that metaphysics are a bore, and only useful in staving off a difficult question. I have no more a desire for a synthetic philosophy than for the moon. But you might give me a Christian

answer."

"I have given it you. You must find a philosophy, and it will take years in the finding. Don't you see, Lady Flora, that your question goes to the very root of all things? We want a key to life, an ideal which will leave out nothing and completely satisfy the hunger in our hearts. When you were a child and invented fairylands you brought into them everything you loved-cats and dogs and toys and people-and so with the bigger fairyland we make when we grow up. Everything shades sooner or later into metaphysics, and the humblest difficulty-if we press it home-brings us within hailing distance of the Infinite. Well, I have no philosophy to teach you. Lord Appin to-night is going to give us what he calls 'some ele