know, and so far will I trust thee, gentle Elfride.'

She was repressed and hurt.

'I will tell you my errand to Plymouth, too, when I come back,'
she murmured.

He went away. His jocularity made her intention seem the lighter,
as his indifference made her more resolved to do as she liked.

It was a familiar September sunset, dark-blue fragments of cloud
upon an orange-yellow sky. These sunsets used to tempt her to
walk towards them, as any beautiful thing tempts a near approach.
She went through the field to the privet hedge, clambered into the
middle of it, and reclined upon the thick boughs. After looking
westward for a considerable time, she blamed herself for not
looking eastward to where Stephen was, and turned round.
Ultimately her eyes fell upon the ground.

A peculiarity was observable beneath her. A green field spread
itself on each side of the hedge, one belonging to the glebe, the
other being a part of the land attached to the manor-house
adjoining. On the vicarage side she saw a little footpath, the
distinctive and altogether exceptional feature of which consisted
in its being only about ten yards long; it terminated abruptly at
each end.

A footpath, suddenly beginning and suddenly ending, coming from
nowhere and leading nowhere, she had never seen before.