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saw it all。 She could completely capture him by responding to his passion。 Without that she was too queer； too untidy； too undisciplined； to hold him at all。 But she could not lie； she could not pretend。
She kissed him。
〃Paul； let's be friends； then。 Splendid friends。 Oh！ we will be happy！〃
But as he kissed her she knew that she had lost him。
Paul was very kind to her during their stay at Little Harben； but they recovered none of that old friendship that had been theirs before they married。 Too many things were now between them。 By the end of that month Maggie longed to return to Skeaton。 It was not only that she felt crushed and choked by the strangling green that hemmed in the old housethe weeds and the trees； and the plants seemed to draw in the night closer and closer about the windows and doorsbut also solitude with Paul was revealing to her； in a ruthless； cruel manner； his weaknesses。 They were none of them； perhaps； very terrible； but she did not wish to see them。 She would like to shut her eyes to them all。 If she lost that friendly kindness that she felt for him then indeed she had lost everything。 She felt as though he were wilfully trying to tug it away from her。
Why was it that she had never shrunk from the faults of Martin and Uncle Mathewfaults so plain and obviousand now shrunk from Paul's？ Paul's were such little onesa desire for praise and appreciation； a readiness to be cheated into believing that all was well when he knew that things were very wrong； an eagerness to be liked even by quite worthless people； sloth and laziness； living lies that were of no importance save as sign…posts to the cowardice of his soul。 Yes； cowardice！ That was the worst of all。 Was it his religion that had made him cowardly？ Why was Maggie so terribly certain that if the necessity for physical defence of her or some helpless creature arose Paul would evade it and talk about 〃turning the other cheek〃？ He was so large a man and so softa terrific egoist finally； in the centre of his soul； an egoist barricaded by superstitions and fears and lies； but not a ruthless egoist； because that demanded energy。
And yet； with all this； he had so many good points。 He was a child； a baby； like so many clergymen。 Even her father could have been defended by that plea 。 。 。
He was not radically bad； he was radically good； but he had never known discipline or real sorrow or hardship。 Wrapped in cotton wool all his life； spoilt； indulged； treated by the world as men treat women。 His effeminacy was the result of his training because he had always been sheltered。 Now his contact with Maggie was presenting him for the first time with Reality。 Would he face and grapple with it； or would he slip away； evade it； and creep back into his padded castle？
The return to Skeaton and the winter that followed it did not answer that question。 Maggie； Grace； and Paul were figures； guarded and defended； outwardly friendly。 Grace behaved during those months very well； but Maggie knew that this was a fresh sign of hostility。 The 〃Chut…Chut；〃 〃My dear child；〃 and the rest that had been so irritating had been after all signs of intimacy。 They were now withdrawn。 Maggie made herself during that winter and the spring that followed as busy as possible。 She ruthlessly forbade all thoughts of Martin； of the aunts； of London； she scarcely saw Caroline； and the church was her fortress。 She seemed to be flung from service to service； to be singing in the choir （she had no voice）； asking children their catechism； listening to Paul's high； rather strained； voice reading the lessons； talking politely to Mrs。 Maxse or one of the numerous girls； knitting and sewing （always so badly）； and above all struggling to remember the things that she was for ever forgetting。 Throughout this period she was pervaded by the damp； oily smell of the heated church； always too hot； always too close； always too breathless。
She had many headaches； she liked them because they held back her temptation to think of forbidden things。
Gradually； although she did not know it； the impression gained ground that she was 〃queer。〃 She had not been to the Toms' often； but she was spoken of as their friend。 She had seen Caroline； who was now considered by the church a most scandalous figure； scarcely at all； but it was known that she was an old friend。 Above all； it was understood that the rector and his wife were not happy。
〃Oh； she's oddlooks more like a boy than a woman。 She never says anything； seems to have no ideas。 I don't believe she's religious really either。〃
She knew nothing of this。 She did not notice that she was not asked often to other houses。 People were kind （the Skeaton people were neither malicious nor cruel） but left her more and more alone。 She said to herself again and again： 〃I must make this a successI must〃but the words were becoming mechanical。 It was like tramping a treadmill： she got no further； only became more and more exhausted。 That spring and summer people noticed her white face and strange eyes。 〃Oh； she's a queer girl；〃 they said。
The summer was very hot with a little wind that blew the sand everywhere。 Strange how that sand succeeded in penetrating into the very depth of the town。 The sand lay upon the pavement of the High Street so that your feet gritted as you walked。 The woods and houses lay for nearly two months beneath a blazing sun。 There was scarcely any rain。 The little garden behind the Rectory was parched and brown； the laurel bushes were grey with dust。 They saw very few people that summer； many of their friends had escaped。
Maggie； thinking of the green depths of Harben a year ago； longed for its coolness； nevertheless she was happy to think that she would never have to see Harben again。
As she had foretold； laziness settled upon Paul。 What he loved best was to sink into his old armchair in the dusty study and read old volumes of Temple Bar and the Cornhill。 He had them piled at his side； he read article after article about such subjects as 〃The Silkworm Industry〃 and 〃Street Signs of the Eighteenth Century。〃 He was very proud of his sermons； but now he seldom gave a new one。 He always intended to。 〃Don't let any one disturb me to…night； Maggie；〃 he would say at supper on Fridays。 〃I've got my sermon。〃 But on entering the study he remembered that there was an article in Temple Bar that he must finish。 He also read the Church Times right through； including the advertisements。 Grace gradually resumed her old functions。
She maintained； however； an elaborate pretence of leaving everything to Maggie。 Especially was she delighted when Maggie forgot something。 When that happened she said nothing； her mouth curled a little。 She treated Maggie less and less to her garrulous confidences。 They would sit for hours in the drawing…room together without exchanging a word。 Maggie and Paul had now different bedrooms。 Early in the autumn Maggie had a little note from Mr。 Magnus。 It said：
〃You have not written to any of us for months。 Won't you come just for a night to see your aunts？ At least let us know that you are happy。〃
She cried that night in bed； squeezing her head into the pillow so that no one should hear her。 She seemed to have lost all her pluck。 She must do something； but what？ She did not know how to deal with people。 If they were kind and friendly there were so many things that she could do； but this silent creeping away from her paralysed her。 She remembered how she had said to Katherine： 〃No one can make me unhappy if I do not wish it to be。〃 Now she did not dare to think how unhappy she was。 She knew that they all thought her strange and odd； and she felt that strangeness creeping upon her。 She MUST be odd if many people thought her so。 She became terribly self… conscious； wondering whether her words and movements were strange。
She was often so tired that she could not drag one foot after another。
A few weeks before Christmas something happened。 A terrible thing； perhapsbut she was delivered by it 。 。 。
She was sitting one afternoon a few weeks before Christmas in the drawing…room alone with Grace。 It was her 〃At Home〃 day； a Friday afternoon。 Grace was knitting a grey stocking； a long one that curled on her lap。 She knitted badly； clumsily； twisting her fingers into odd shapes and muddling her needles。 Now and then she would look up as though she meant to talk； and then remembering that it was Maggie who was opposite to her she would purse her lips and look down again。 The fire hummed and sputtered； the clock ticked； and Grace breathed in heavy despairing pants over the difficulties of her work。 The door opened and the little maid； her eyes nervously wandering towards Grace； murmured； 〃Mr。 Cardinal； mum。〃
The next thing of which Maggie was conscious was Uncle Mathew standing clumsily just inside the door shifting his bowler hat between his two hands。
The relief of seeing him was so great that she jumped up and ran towards him crying； 〃Oh； Uncle Mathew！ I'm so glad！ At last！〃
He dropped his bowler in giving her his hand。 She noticed at once that he was looking very unhappy and had terribly run to seed。
He was badly shaved； his blue suit was shabby and soiled。 He was fatter； and his whole body was flabby and unc