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Their parting was in this lighter vein, although on his side still tender
and on hers penitent. In both was a consciousness of not understanding,
of being somehow apart, of an inexplicable difficulty in taking one
another's point of view. The solution of sympathy, the break that May had
talked of, made itself apparent again. In spite of self-reproaches, her
strongest feeling, when she was left alone, was of joy that her freedom
still was hers.


CHAPTER V.
WHIMSY-WHAMSIES.

At Ashwood the sun was sinking after a bright April afternoon. Mrs.
Baxter sat in a chair on the lawn and discoursed wisdom to May Gaston and
Morewood. The rest of the party had gone for a walk to the top of what
Lady Richard called "Duty Hill"; it was the excursion obligatory on all
guests.
"The real reason," remarked Mrs. Baxter, who was making a garment--she
was under spiritual contract to make two a month--"why the Dean hasn't
risen higher is because he always has some whimsy-whamsy in his head.


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