HELEN DECIDES Some weeks had passed since Festing went to gather mushrooms when he sat, one evening, on the terrace in front of Gardiner's house.

His brows were knit and he had in his had a letter from Kerr at the construction camp.

The back of the letter was covered with penciled calculations, but he presently put it down and looked moodily about.
The larches that sheltered the house had been in full leaf when he came, but now they were getting bare.

One could see the hills through a fine network of twigs, dotted with minute tassels of gold.

The beeches and oaks looked solid yet, but the former shone warm brown and red against the others' fading green.