The Trespasser

In the garden of tall rose trees and nasturtiums Helena was again

waiting. It was past nine o'clock, so she was growing impatient. To

herself, however, she professed a great interest in a little book of

verses she had bought in St Martin's Lane for twopence.

A late, harsh blackbird smote him with her wings,

As through the glade, dim in the dark, she flew....

So she read. She made a curious, pleased sound, and remarked to herself

that she thought these verses very fine. But she watched the road

for Siegmund.

And now she takes the scissors on her thumb ...

Oh then, no more unto my lattice come.

'H'm!' she said, 'I really don't know whether I like that or not.' Therefore she read the piece again before she looked down the road.

'He really is very late. It is absurd to think he may have got drowned;

but if he were washing about at the bottom of the sea, his hair loose on

the water!' Her heart stood still as she imagined this.

'But what nonsense! I like these verses _very_ much. I will read them as

I walk along the side path, where I shall hear the bees, and catch the

flutter of a butterfly among the words. That will be a very fitting way

to read this poet.' So she strolled to the gate, glancing up now and again. There, sure

enough, was Siegmund coming, the towel hanging over his shoulder, his

throat bare, and his face bright. She stood in the mottled shade.

'I have kept you waiting,' said Siegmund.

'Well, I was reading, you see.' She would not admit her impatience.

'I have been talking,' he said.

'Talking!' she exclaimed in slight displeasure. 'Have you found an

acquaintance even here?' 'A fellow who was quite close friends in Savoy days; he made me feel

queer-sort of _Doppelgänger_, he was.' Helena glanced up swiftly and curiously.

'In what way?' she said.

'He talked all the skeletons in the cupboard-such piffle it seems, now!

The sea is like a harebell, and there are two battleships lying in the

bay. You can hear the voices of the men on deck distinctly. Well, have

you made the plans for today?' They went into the house to breakfast. She watched him helping himself

to the scarlet and green salad.

'Mrs Curtiss,' she said, in rather reedy tone, 'has been very motherly

to me this morning; oh, very motherly!' Siegmund, who was in a warm, gay mood, shrank up.

'What, has she been saying something about last night?' he asked.