'I'll go up to town,' he thought.

In the hall a servant met him.
"A lady to see you, sir; Mrs.Heron." Extraordinary coincidence! Passing into the picture-gallery, as it was still called, he saw Irene standing over by the window.
She came towards him saying: "I've been trespassing; I came up through the coppice and garden.

I always used to come that way to see Uncle Jolyon." "You couldn't trespass here," replied Jolyon; "history makes that impossible.

I was just thinking of you." Irene smiled.

And it was as if something shone through; not mere spirituality--serener, completer, more alluring.
"History!" she answered; "I once told Uncle Jolyon that love was for ever.