wondering. She had laid her fingers between its leaves, but a shivering
had come upon her, and she ran downstairs very quickly and washed her
hands. These memories made her feel restless and unhappy, and she drove
her attention back to the platform and beautiful Mrs. Mark Lyle. But
there came upon her a fantasy that she was standing again in the garret
with that book in her hands, and that Mr. Philip was leaning against
the wall in that dark place beyond the window laughing at her, partly
because she was such a wee ninny not to know, and partly because when
she did know the truth there would be something about it which would
humiliate her. She cast down her eyes and stared at the floor so that
none might see how close she was to tears. She was a silly weak thing
that would always feel like a bairn on its first day at school; she was
being tormented by Mr. Philip. Even the very facts of life had been
planned to hurt her.

Oh, to be like that man from Rio! It was his splendid fate to be made
tall and royal, to be the natural commander of all men from the moment
that he ceased to be a child. He could captain his ship through the
steepest seas and fight the pirate frigate till there was nothing
between him and the sunset but a few men clinging to planks and a
shot-torn black flag floating on the waves like a rag of seaweed. For
rest he would steer to small islands, where singing birds would fly out
of woods and perch on the rigging, and brown men would come and run
aloft and wreathe the masts with flowers, and shy women with long,
loose, black hair would steal out and offer palm-wine in conches, while
he smiled aloofly and was gracious. It would not matter where he sailed;
at no port in the world would sorrow wait for him, and everywhere there
would be pride and honour and stars pinned to his rough coat by grateful
kings. And if he fell in love with a beautiful woman he would go away
from her at once and do splendid things for her sake. And when he died