Alec's first visit was to Lucy. No one knew that he had arrived, and after changing his clothes at the rooms in Mall that he had taken for the summer, he walked to Charles Street. His heart leaped as he strolled up the hill of St. James Street, bright by a fortunate chance with the sunshine of a summer day; and he rejoiced in the gaiety of the well-dressed youths who sauntered down, bound for one or other of the clubs, taking off their hats with a rapid smile of recognition to charming women who sat in victorias or in electric cars. There was an air of in the broad street, of a refined without , which was very grateful to his eyes accustomed for so long to the of Africa.  
The gods were to his wishes that day, for Lucy was at home; she sat in the drawing-room, by the window, reading a novel. At her side were masses of flowers, and his first glimpse of her was against a great bowl of roses. The servant announced his name, and she sprang up with a cry. She flushed with excitement, and then the blood fled from her cheeks, and she became pale. Alec noticed that she was whiter and thinner than when last he had seen her; but she was more beautiful.
 
'I didn't expect you so soon,' she .
 
And then unaccountably tears came to her eyes. Falling back into her chair, she hid her face. Her heart began to beat painfully.
 
'You must forgive me,' she said, trying to smile. 'I can't help being very silly.'
 
For days Lucy had lived in an agony of terror, fearing this meeting, and now it had come upon her unexpectedly. More than four years had passed since last they had seen one another, and they had been years of anxiety and . She was certain that she had changed, and looking with pitiful in the glass, she told herself that she was pale and dull. She was nearly thirty. There were lines about her eyes, and her mouth had a bitter . She had no mercy on herself. She would not minimise the of time, and with a frankness insisted on seeing herself as she might be in ten years, when an increasing leanness, emphasising the lines and increasing the of her features, made her still more haggard. She was seized with utter dismay. He might have ceased to love her. His life had been so full, occupied with adventures, while hers had been used up in waiting, only in waiting. It was natural enough that the strength of her passion should only have increased, but it was natural too that his should have vanished before a more urgent preoccupation. And what had she to offer him now? She turned away from the glass because her tears the image it presented; and if she looked forward to the first meeting with eagerness, it was also with sickening dread.
 
And now she was so troubled that she could not adopt the attitude of civil which she had intended in order to show him that she made no claim upon him. She wanted to seem quite collected so that her behaviour should not lead him to think her heart at all , but she could only watch his eyes hungrily. She herself to restrain a of sorrow if she saw his disillusionment. He talked in order to give time for her to master her .
 
'I was afraid there would be interviewers and boring people generally to meet me if I came by the boat by which I was expected, so I got into another, and I've arrived a day before my time.'
 
She was calmer now, and though she did not speak, she looked at him with strained attention, hanging on his words.
 
He was very bronzed, thin after his recent illness, but he looked well and strong. His manner had the noble self-confidence which had delighted her of old, and he with the quiet deliberation she loved. Now and then a faint inflection betrayed his Scottish birth.
 
'I felt that I owed my first visit to you. Can you ever forgive me that I have not brought George home to you?'
 
Lucy gave a sudden . And with bitter self-reproach she realised that in the cruel joy of seeing Alec once more she had forgotten her brother. She was ashamed. It was but eighteen months since he had died, but twelve since the cruel news had reached her, and now, at this moment of all others, she was so absorbed in her love that no other feeling could enter her heart.
 
She looked down at her dress. Its half-mourning still that she had lost one who was very dear to her, but the black and white was a mockery. She remembered in a flash the grief which Alec's letter had brought her. It seemed at first that there must be a mistake and that her tears were but part of a hateful dream. It was too unjust that the fates should have hit upon George. She had already suffered too much. And George was so young. It was very hard that a boy should be robbed of the precious jewel which is life. And when she realised that it was really true, her grief knew no bounds. All that she ............