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Tutorial 6: Creating a Web Form

TRUE/FALSE

1. HTML supports tags that allow you to create forms and analyze the information submitted on forms.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

2. The earliest and most common of the languages used for server-based programs are called CGI scripts,
written in a language called Perl.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398

3. PHP and ASP are popular languages widely used today for writing server-based programs.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398

4. The get method appends the form data to the end of the URL specified in the action attribute.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400

5. Typically, forms only contain form elements and no page elements.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

6. Among the attributes included with the <form> tag are attributes that include information on how to
process the form.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

7. A single Web page can contain at most one form.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

8. One way of organizing a form is to group similar fields into field sets.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 402

9. A password text box hides text entered by the user.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

10. Access keys can be used with hyperlinks and are particularly helpful to users with impaired motor
skills who find it difficult to use a mouse.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

11. Field sets are block elements that limit the numbers of characters the text box can hold.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 404

12. HTML allows you to formally link a label with an associated text box element for scripting purposes.
 ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

13. Unlike a default field value, a placeholder is not stored in the data field and is not sent to the server as
a field value.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML416

14. An access key is a single key that you type in conjunction with the Alt key for Macintosh users.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

15. When the <input> tag is used to create radio buttons, the tag also creates labels for radio buttons.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML429

16. Users are limited to a single selection from a selection list.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 422

17. Check boxes are selected by default.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437

18. A command button runs a command that affects the contents of the Web page or the Web browser
itself.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 456

19. Data values do not need to be tested or validated before they are used.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 461

20. One advantage of the current validation checks is that they occur after a user has completed and
submitted the form.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 466

MODIFIED TRUE/FALSE

1. Input boxes are a form control element used for text and numerical entries. ____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

2. Option lists are a form control element for long lists of options. ____________________

ANS: F, Selection

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

3. The earliest and most common server-based programs are CGI scripts written in a language called
Perl. ____________________
 ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398

4. The get method sends form data in a separate data stream. ____________________

ANS: F, post method

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400

5. The language used to create a server-based program depends on the Web server.
____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

6. The <table> tag identifies the beginning of a form. ____________________

ANS: F, form

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

7. The <form> tag includes attributes that control how the form is processed. ____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

8. To associate text with a control element, you can use the label element.. ____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

9. When you link a label with an associated input box element, you use the name attribute of the field.
____________________

ANS: F, id

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

10. A placeholder is a numeric string that appears within the control element and provides users with
information about the kind of information accepted by the field. __________________

ANS: F, text

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 416

11. An access key is a single key that you type in conjunction with the Command key for Macintosh users,
to jump to one of the control elements in the form. ____________________

ANS: F, Control

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

12. A selection list is a list box that presents users with a group of possible field values for the data field.
____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 422

13. Like selection list items, only one radio button can be selected at a time. ____________________
 ANS: F, Unlike

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

14. A control element that allows extended text entries is the textarea element. ____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 366

15. Input boxes with the number data type are displayed using a spinner control in which users click an up
or down arrow to increase or decrease the field value, respectively.____________________

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 447

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. Information entered into a field is called the field ____.

a. index c. attribute
b. rating d. value
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

2. Each control element in which the user can enter information is called a(n) ____.
a. field c. value
b. index d. area
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

3. Text ____ are used for extended entries that can include several lines of text.
a. areas c. rosters
b. buttons d. matrices
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 434

4. Selection lists usually appear in a ____ box.

a. value list c. form
b. radio d. drop-down list
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 426
5. As shown in the accompanying figure, the form contains ____ elements, which are commonly used in
Web page forms.
a. control c. access
b. formula d. box
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 459

6. The item marked ____ in the accompanying figure is an input box.

a. 1 c. 4
b. 2 d. 6
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 407

7. The item marked ____ in the accompanying figure is a selection list.

a. 1 c. 3
b. 2 d. 6
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 425
 8. The items marked 3 in the accompanying figure are ____ buttons.
a. check c. option
b. group d. cluster
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 431

9. The item marked 4 in the accompanying figure is a(n) ____ button.

a. report c. option
b. reset d. spinner control
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 447

10. The item marked 6 in the accompanying figure is a ____ area.

a. registration c. text
b. form d. list
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 436

11. The item marked 5 in the accompanying figure is a ____ box.

a. text c. check
b. field d. form
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 438

12. Option buttons are sometimes called ____ buttons.

a. group c. radio
b. cluster d. aggregate
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

13. You should check with your ISP or system administrator to find out what ____ are available and what
rights and privileges you have in working with them.
a. scripts c. passwords
b. access keys d. XMLs
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

14. CGI scripts can be written in which of the following languages?

a. TCP c. Perl
b. JavaScript d. Any of the above
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398

15. Forms are created using the ____ element.

a. <field> c. <html>
b. <form> d. <input>
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

16. The ____ attribute of the <form> tag represents the older standard for identifying each form on the
page.
a. id c. name
b. identification d. what
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399

17. The ____ attribute has two possible values: get and post.
 a. value c. method
b. id d. name
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400

18. ____ sets are used to organize form elements.

a. Option c. Text
b. Radio d. Field
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 402

19. HTML 4 supports ____ different input types.

a. 10 c. 16
b. 15 d. 17
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 404

20. If you do not include the type attribute in an <input> tag, the Web browser assumes that you want to
create a(n) ____.
a. check box c. option button
b. input box d. submit button
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 404

21. Which input type displays a browse button to locate and select a file?
a. type= “attach” c. type= “file”
b. type= “find” d. type= “browse”
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

22. Which input type creates a field that is not viewable on the form?
a. type= “conceal” c. type= “view”
b. type= “off” d. type= “hidden”
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

23. Which input type displays an inline image that can be clicked to perform an action from a script?
a. type= “image” c. type= “picture”
b. type= “inline” d. type= “action”
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

24. Which input type displays an input box that hides text entered by the user?
a. type= “hidden” c. type= “user”
b. type= “password” d. type= “hide”
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

25. When a form is submitted, the server receives the data in ____ pairs.
a. name/value c. id/value
b. label/name d. value/label
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 404

26. To create an input box for ____ entry, add the element <input type=”type” name=”name” id=”id” /> to
the web form, where type specifies the type of input control, rhe name attribute provides the name of
the field associated with the control element, and the id attribute identifies the control element itself.
 a. numeric c. text
b. label d. character
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

27. When you link a label with an associated text element for scripting purposes, you must bind the label
to the ____ attribute of the field.
a. id c. label
b. name d. what
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

28. To associate a label with the control element with the id of "city", you would enter ____.
a. <label id="city"> c. <label element="city">
b. <label for="city"> d. <label associate="city">
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

29. Label elements are normally ____ elements.

a. inside c. inline
b. outline d. outside
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 412

30. The ____ style can be used to change label elements into block elements.
a. type:block c. display: block
b. format: block d. block: block
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 413 | HTML414

31. The placeholder automatically disappears as soon as a user selects the ____ box.
a. label c. text
b. input d. textarea
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 416

32. To set the number of options displayed at one time in the selection list, add the attribute_______,
a. selected = “selected” c. multiple=”multiple”
b. size=”value” d. select = “select”
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 423

33. To define a default field value, add the attribute ____.

a. size =”value” c. input =”value”
b. value=”value” d. value = “chars”
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 415

34. Another way you can specify the width is to use the ____ attribute.
a. size c. length
b. maximum d. characters
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 415

35. To avoid confusion, set the width either with _____ width style or the HTML size attribute, but not
both.
a. CIS c. CGI
 b. CSS d. PHP
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 415

36. Many browsers include a(n) ________ feature that automatically fills in input form values if they are
based on previously filled out forms.
a. autocorrect c. grammar check
b. autocomplete d. spelling
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 411

37. To define a default value for a field, use the following syntax: ____.
a. <input field= “value” /> c. <input default= “value” />
b. <input main= “value” /> d. <input value= “value” />
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 415

38. Press the ____ key to move between input boxes.

a. Shift c. Ctrl
b. Tab d. Alt
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

39. You can specify an access key for an input element by using the ____ attribute.
a. shortcut c. accesskey
b. key d. keypress
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 408

40. The ________ automatically disappears as soon as a user selects the input box.
a. input box c. textarea
b. text box d. placeholder
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 416

41. ____ buttons can be placed into a group so that selecting one deselects all of the others.
a. Checkbox c. Command
b. Image d. Radio
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

42. To group option buttons so that selecting one deselects all of the others, you must make the ____
attribute the same.
a. name c. id
b. type d. value
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 430

43. To identify the specific options for option buttons, you use the ____ attribute.
a. name c. id
b. type d. value
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 433

44. To specify that an option button be already selected, you type ____.
a. checked="yes" c. checked="checked"
b. value="checked" d. value="yes"
 ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 434

45. A ____ should be used to provide visual indication that option buttons belong in the same group.
a. fieldset c. table
b. label d. value
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 430

46. In the general syntax for the <select> and <option> tags, each ____ tag represents an individual item in
the selection list.
a. <option> c. <index>
b. <item> d. <each>
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 425

47. By default, the ____ tag displays one option from the selection list, along with a list arrow to view
additional selection options.
a. <index> c. <option>
b. <select> d. <checked>
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 423

48. HTML allows you to organize selection lists into distinct groups called ____ groups.
a. option c. unique
b. selection d. category
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 428

49. You can change the number of options displayed in a selection list by modifying the ____ attribute.
a. display c. size
b. list d. number
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 426

50. When using the password data type, any information that a user enters will be displayed as a series of
____ or asterisks, protecting the information from prying eyes.
a. dashes
b. dots
c. ampersands
d. plus signs
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

51. For noncontiguous selections from a selection list on a PC, press and hold the ____ key while you
make your selections.
a. Ctrl c. Esc
b. Shift d. Alt
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 427

52. For a contiguous selection in a selection list, select the first item, press and hold the ____ key, and then
select the last item in the range.
a. Ctrl c. Esc
b. Shift d. Alt
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 427
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53. ____ are used to check for the presence or absence of something.
a. Check boxes c. Group boxes
b. Option boxes d. Text boxes
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437

54. To make a check box selected by default, you add ____.

a. selected="true" c. checked="checked"
b. selected="selected" d. checked="true"
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 438

55. The ____ attributes define the dimensions of a text area.

a. height and width c. top and bottom
b. rows and cols d. high and wide
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 434

56. In a text area, the default value of the wrap attribute is ____.
a. on c. soft
b. off d. hard
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 435

57. In a ____ wrap, information about where the text begins a new line is included with the data field
value.
a. soft c. off
b. hard d. on
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 435

58. When a user tabs through the form, the tab order will reflect the order of the items in the ____ file.
a. HTML c. CSS
b. CGI d. PHP
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437

59. Typically, users navigate through a Web form using the _____ key, which moves the cursor
from one field to another in the order that the field tags are entered into the HTML file.
a. ALT c. SHIFT
b. TAB d. CTRL
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437

60. For most browsers, if no value for the wrap attribute of a text area is specified, a value of ____ is used.
a. hard c. soft
b. off d. on
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 435

61. To create an action for a(n) ____ button, you have to write a script or program that runs automatically
when the button is clicked.
a. option c. group
b. radio d. command
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 456
62. To create a button that will allow a user to send the form data to the server, you use a type of ____.
a. command c. option
b. reset d. submit
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML457

63. To create a button that will clear the form fields, you use a type of ____.
a. command c. option
b. reset d. submit
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 457

64. The ____ control element is used to create a custom button.

a. command c. input
b. file d. button
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 460

65. Validation can occur after the data is sent to the server with _________.
a. client-side validation c. HTML validation
b. server-side validation d. HTML5 validation
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 460

66. A _____ is a concise description of a character pattern.

a. regular expression c. character string
b. regex d. both a and b
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 464

67. The ____ method of the <form> tag packages form data by appending it to the end of the URL
specified in the action attribute.
a. post c. put
b. get d. keep
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400

68. The technique of immediate data validation and reporting of errors is known as _________.
a. online validation c. inline validation
b. regular expression d. immediate validation
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 466

69. ______ refers to the state in which an element has been clicked by the user, making it the active
control element on the form.
a. Cursor c. Focus
b. Insertion point d. Directive
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 467

70. The pseudo-class _____ matches check boxes or option buttons whose toggle states (checked or
unchecked) cannot be determined.
a. indeterminate c. invalid
b. checked d. required
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 467
 Case-Base Critical Thinking Questions

Case 6-1
Oscar owns Oscar's Skateboard Shop. He wants to create a Web form to allow users to specify the type
of skateboards they would like to buy. This includes the make, model, type and color, and board
options. Oscar's skateboards come in Children, Young Adult, and Adult sizes. Oscar's skateboards
only come in color, pattern, and themes. He has over 25 makes and models of skateboards.

71. Since make and model are normally lists, Oscar should use a ____ tag to specify the lists.
a. <checkbox> c. <select>
b. <file> d. <command>
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 422 TOP: Critical Thinking

72. Oscar should use ____ to allow users to select the skateboard type.
a. radio buttons c. command buttons
b. check boxes d. group boxes
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437 TOP: Critical Thinking

73. For the color, Oscar should most likely use ___.
a. radio buttons c. command buttons
b. check boxes d. group boxes
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429 TOP: Critical Thinking

Case-Based Critical Thinking Questions

Case 6-2
Wyona, owner of Wyona’s Hat Designs, desires to have a Web site built for customers to order
custom-made hats. They can pick from straw, leather, and material hat collections. Customers can
specify one of their existing patterns, which include about 50 designs. They can also choose a custom
pattern instead and then provide information about the pattern they want for Wyona to custom create.

74. In order to provide customers plenty of room to enter the information for a custom pattern, which type
of field should Wyona provide for the user?
a. textarea c. text
b. radio d. select
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 434 TOP: Critical Thinking

75. Wyona wants to separate the different options for straw, leather and material. Which element can she
use to create these groups?
a. check box c. radio
b. select d. fieldset
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 430 TOP: Critical Thinking

76. Wyona wants to label each group. Which element would be the best for her to use?
a. label c. legend
b. caption d. text
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 403 TOP: Critical Thinking
 77. For her address she wants to make sure the zipcode is set to 5 characters only. Which attribute of a text
box will allow her to do this?
a. maxlength c. length
b. size d. characters
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 466 TOP: Critical Thinking

Case-Based Critical Thinking Questions

Case 6-3
Larry has just bought an online Web hosting solution from a popular ISP. He knows the ISP provides
some scripts to allow people to create logon pages for their Web site if they want to have a
password-protected blog, for example. Larry wants to create such a page for his blog about video
games.

78. Before Larry builds his form, which of the following should he consult concerning required fields?
a. his ISP c. his desired form design
b. his other Web pages d. none of the above
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 399 TOP: Critical Thinking

79. Which element will Larry most likely use to create the password element?
a. select c. textarea
b. input d. option
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405 TOP: Critical Thinking

80. What type of method will Larry most likely be using for submitting his form data?
a. get c. post
b. submit d. reset
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 391 TOP: Critical Thinking

COMPLETION

1. Information entered into a field is called the field ____________________.

ANS: value

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397

2. CGI stands for ____________________.

ANS: Common Gateway Interface

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398

3. A(n) ____________________ is a box placed around a set of fields that indicates that they belong to a
common group.

ANS:
fieldset
field set
 PTS: 1 REF: HTML 402

4. The input type=“____________________” displays an option button.

ANS: radio

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

5. The input type=“____________________” displays a button that submits the form when clicked.

ANS: submit

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405

6. A(n) ____________________ field is an input box in which the characters typed by the user are
displayed as bullets or asterisks.

ANS: password

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

7. If most people enter the same value into a field, it may make sense to define a(n)
____________________ value for a field.

ANS: default

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 415

8. ____________________ buttons are similar to selection lists in that they display a list of choices from
which a user makes a selection.

ANS:
Option
Radio

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429

9. Selection lists are used for long lists of options, usually appearing in a(n) ____________________ list
box.

ANS:
drop-down
drop down

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 426

10. Adding the ____________________ attribute to the <select> tag allows multiple selections from a list.

ANS: multiple

PTS: 1 REF: HTML 427

11. ____________________ boxes specify an item as either present or absent.

Other documents randomly have
different content
 The case was explained to the golden woman. They were most
awfully sorry. It wasn’t very gallant conduct on their part; but what
other choice had they? Wouldn’t she leave the horses and the guard
at the inn, and come back with them to Oxford? Or could they see
her on the train to Paddington? Having told the guard to go on with
the harnessing, she listened to them quietly. When they had finished
she said, “Peter and I are going to drive to London. You’re willing to
take a chance, aren’t you, Peter?”
He broke into his boyish laugh. “It’ll be sport. I’ll chance it.”
As the coach moved off he turned and waved to the others, who
stood watching from the common. The guard from his back seat,
raising the horn, gave them a farewell flourish. In his heart of hearts
Peter wished that he were among them. But——. Well, the golden
woman had a secret. She was going to tell it to him. It had
something to do with Cherry. And it wouldn’t have been decent to
have left her to finish the drive alone to London. He’d get the last
train back from Paddington, barring accidents.
She was speaking to him. “That’s better. At last we’re alone
together.”
“Do you think we’ll do it?” he asked. .
“Do what?”
“Get there in time.”
She drew her brows together. “Peter, Peter, what does it matter?
You take life so seriously.”
They laughed.
“What are you going to do with it?” she asked. He looked puzzled.
“With life, I mean,” she added.
“Don’t know. It depends.”
“On what?”
“People,” he answered vaguely, taking care to avoid mentioning
Cherry. “I may travel for a year. Perhaps Kay will come with me.
After that I’m going into my father’s business.”
 The golden woman’s face became grave; beneath its gravity was a
flame of excitement. Her voice trembled and reached him softly.
“That’s not what I meant. That’s not doing anything with life. Those
things are incidents—externals. I meant, are you going to live life, or
are you going to miss everything? Life’s an ocean, full of enduring,
dotted with a few islands. Are you going to be an explorer—or are
you going to miss everything?”
Odd that she, of all persons, should have asked him that! He
remembered how Harry had said that she was a ship, always setting
sail for new lands and never coming to anchor.
“An explorer! I’ll first see the islands.”
A strand of her hair broke loose and fluttered about her eyes. “I
can’t put it back,” she said. “I wish you’d do it.” Her hands were
occupied with the reins. He leant across her. As his face came under
hers, she held her breath. To him it was nothing. The horses, feeling
her hands go slack, broke into a gallop; for a moment she lost
control of them. When she had quieted them, she turned to him
impulsively, “Peter, you’re a darling.” Her eyes held his with an
expression of appeal and challenge; then faltered, as though they
were afraid to look at him.
Her excitement communicated itself. He was embarrassed. He
didn’t understand. He guessed that she was in trouble and was
asking for his kindness. “Golden woman, how easily you and I say
things like that. If Cherry had said it to me, or if you had said it to
the Faun Man, how much more——.”
She cut him short. “Don’t.”
They had traveled half a mile in silence, when she whispered, “It
wasn’t easily said.”
In the west, behind them, the sky began to burn. Little tongues of
flame licked the edges of black clouds. Mists writhed and drove
across the sinking sun. Peter stood up in his seat, looking back; it
was a glimpse of hell. He glanced ahead—everything over there was
blackness. Trees looked blasted; they bowed their heads. Roads and
fields were empty. There was no life, no color in the meadows.
 “We’re in for it,” he said.
Rain began to patter, softly at first. Wind was getting up and
breathed across the country in a long sigh. He spread a coat across
the golden woman’s shoulders. She didn’t thank him. Gathering the
reins more firmly in her hands, she whipped up the horses.
Their heads were bent together. Behind them, out of ear-shot on
the back-seat, the guard huddled. She spoke. “We’re going to be
late. I intended we should be late. I wanted to get rid of the others.
I knew that you’d stick by me.”
And again she said, “You were talking of women not being kind.
—— Men aren’t kind to the women who love them.”
She had changed. Her face had sharpened out of its contentment.
Usually its expression was lazy and laughing, but now——. Pain had
come into it. It was intense and thin with purpose; it was purpose
she had always lacked. He tried to find a word for the new thing that
he found in her. Was it only the distortion that the storm was
working? A flash of lightning slit the heavens; it ripped the clouds
like a red-hot blade. A shattering crash! The dynamite of the gods
exploding! Darkness came down. Another flash! Trees leant forward,
like fugitives with arms extended. And she—her face was white and
dominant. It looked beautiful and Medusa-like—snakes of loosened
hair blew about it. She no longer crouched her head. She sat tall and
defiant, the rain splashing down on her. What strength she had in
her hands! She held in the quivering horses, speaking to them now
harshly, now caressingly. They pricked up their ears, listening for her
voice. He found the word for the new thing that had come to her. It
was passion.
“Come nearer. What did you mean when you told me you had
guessed my secret?”
“The Faun Man——”
She took him up. “Yes, Lorie—he and I had our first quarrel this
morning. We’ve both wasted our lives, waiting for something—
something that could never happen.”
“Why never?”
 “Because I can’t bring myself to—not in his way. He told me this
morning——. It doesn’t matter what he told me. It hurt me to hear
him speak like that, so strongly and quietly and sadly. Lorie and I,
we’ve drifted—let life slip by. We’ve wakened; we’re tired.” Then, like
a child, appealing against injustice. “He said I hadn’t a heart—that I
was made of stone, not like other women. It’s not true that I’m
different—is it, Peter?” And again, “Is it, Peter?” And then, “It hurt to
be blamed for not giving—giving what would be his to take, if he
were the right man.”
“The right man! That’s what Cherry says. How does a woman
know who is the right man?”
She avoided a direct answer. “The right man is always born too
late or too early; or else he’s wasting himself on someone who
doesn’t want him.”
It was a city of the dead that they were entering. Rain swept the
streets in sudden and vindictive volleys. Lamps shone weakly; some
were extinguished. Few people were about. At Ealing they halted for
their last change.
“Won’t be goin’ any further?” the guard suggested.
When he was informed to the contrary, he glanced up at the
drenched faces. He seemed to see a thing that startled him. “Blime!”
While he hurried the ostlers with the harnessing, he tried not to look
at those white patches in the dusk; his eyes returned to them,
unwillingly fascinated. When he had released the leaders’ heads, he
stepped back and swung himself up behind as the coach lunged into
the storm.
There was barely time to reach Paddington. Peter calculated. If he
missed the train, the consequences would be grave. He asked the
golden woman to hurry. She listened, but made no attempt to
quicken their pace. She didn’t seem at all disturbed by his dilemma.
He almost suspected her of holding in the horses. Too late to leave
her now! As they trotted through the premature night, he began to
ask himself questions. Why had she been so determined to finish the
journey? Why had she shown such eagerness to be alone with him?
 He leant forward. “Where’s Lorie?”
“In London.”
“And Cherry?”
She tossed her head impatiently, “With you, it’s always Cherry.”
“Well then, Lorie—is he going to meet us?”
“If he does, what difference will it make?”
“To me? Not much. But to you—you’ll know then, and you’ll be
happy.”
“Shall I?”
Her indifference spurred him into earnestness. From differing
points of view, the golden woman and Cherry used the same
arguments. If he could convince her, he could perhaps convince
Cherry. In fighting for the Faun Man, it was his own battle he was
fighting.
“You don’t know yourself, golden woman—you don’t know his
value. He’s become a habit—you’ll miss him terribly. He’s been too
extravagant in the giving of himself. He’s made you selfish. If you
were to lose him, if suddenly from giving you everything, he were to
give you nothing——-”
Her voice reached him bitterly. “That’s what he threatens—to
starve me after giving me everything. He didn’t say it in those
words, but——. What do I care?”
“You do care. You’re caring now. All day long you’ve been caring.
If he isn’t there to meet us——.”
“I shall be glad.”
“You won’t.” He spoke eagerly. “You won’t. To-night you may think
you’ll be glad, but to-morrow—to-morrow you’ll be without him. Just
think, you’ve kept him marking time all these years. He’s expected
and expected. You’ve banked on him—felt safe because of him.
You’re foolish. You can’t cheat at the game of life—you can’t even
cheat yourself; in the end you’re bound to play fair.”
She didn’t answer.
 “You won’t be glad if he’s not there.”
Silence.
“Is he going to meet us?”
“If he doesn’t—— She went no further.
“Will Cherry be there?”
Her face flashed down on him, white and stabbing. “Again. Always
Cherry.”
Later she whispered, “Forgive me, Peter.”
Without a word, they passed through tunnels of muted houses.
The sky closed down on them. The rain drew a curtain about them.
The slap of the horses’ hoofs upon the paving started echoes. Traffic
slipped by them spectrelike, as if moving in another world. Now it
was between shuttered shops of Regent Street that they trotted. At
last Trafalgar Square, vast and chaotic, a pagan temple from which
the roof had fallen!
They strained forward from the box, searching through the
darkness. From the entrance to The Métropole light
streamed across the pavement. It was the end of their journey. As
the horn sounded, a man stepped out from shelter. For a moment—
but no; he had only been sent to take the coach to the stables. As
they clattered to a standstill, several guests came out on to the steps
of the hotel to watch them. The guard climbed down and ran to the
leaders’ heads. No one was there to greet them—no one who was
familiar.
She laughed high up, excitedly, “What did I tell you?”
“Not there,” he agreed reluctantly; “neither of them.” She touched
his hand and caught her breath. “As I said—neither of them care.
You and I—we’re still alone.” He was sorry for her, guessing her
disappointment. Had Lorie been there it would have spelt
forgiveness. Big Ben boomed ten. He started. “Hulloa! I’m dished. I
can’t get back.”
“You’re not going back? You don’t want to leave me? Say you
don’t.”
 He was embarrassed. He didn’t know what to make of her. She
was on his hands; he ought to be in Oxford. Evidently she had been
harder hit than she acknowledged. He tried to speak cheerfully.
“Look here, it’s time we became sensible. That chap’s waiting for us
to scramble down—he wants to take the horses. Let’s go into the
hotel. I’ll engage a room for you—high time you got those wet
things off. Nice little mess we’ve made of it! When I’ve seen you
settled, I’ll toddle off to Topbury and spend the night with my
people.”
“Will you?”
She glanced at him slantingly. To his immense surprise, she
brought the whip down smartly across the horses. As the leaders
darted forward the guard, taken unaware, was thrown off his
balance. As Peter looked back through the steaming mist, he saw
him picking himself up from the pavement, waving his arms and
shouting.
Utterly bewildered by her shifting moods, he turned to her, “You’ve
left that chap behind.—— I wish you’d tell me what the game is. I
don’t want you to drive me to Topbury and, anyhow, the
Embankment’s all out of the direction.”
“I’m not driving you to Topbury, stupid.”
He spoke more sternly, “Seriously, you must tell me. You’ve
brought me to London and—by Jove, I almost believe you tried to
make me miss my train. It isn’t sporting. Why don’t you turn back to
The Métropole. I’ll get you a room and——.”
“Too many people to see us,” she said shortly.
He had only one means of stopping her—to catch hold of the
reins. Too risky! He gazed about him, wondering what to do. They
were traversing the Embankment—it was empty save for outcasts
huddled on benches like corpses. The night looked sodden. The river
gleamed murkily. Lights on bridges, hanging like chains, shone
obscurely.
She was mocking him in low caressing tones. “You don’t want to
leave me? Say you don’t.”
 The odd repetition of the question struck him. He had missed its
first significance. It couldn’t be! He pressed nearer, peering into her
face. He caught the hungry pleading in her eyes—the mad defiance.
“You mean——? You never meant——. Eve, you’re too good a
woman.”
She halted the horses, and gazed down on him smilingly. She
shook her head slowly, denying his assertion of her goodness. “You
hadn’t guessed?”
“Guessed!” He drew himself upright. The passion in her voice
appalled him.
Her arms went about him; cold wet lips were pressing his mouth.
“You dear boy-man! You dear boy-man!”
He thrust her from him. He was choking. Her lips—they scorched
him. He had seen in all women’s faces the likeness to his mother’s
and Kay’s. But now——.
A bedraggled creature, in tattered finery, with a broken plume
nodding evilly across her forehead, struggled from a bench, shuffled
across the pavement and whined up at him. He took no notice. He
tried not to believe what had been meant. Through their nervous
silence trees shuddered; the muffled skirmish of the rain thudded.
The golden woman was watching him. A gleam of hatred in her
eyes at first—the reflection of his own loathing. Then, as pity
replaced his loathing, a look of horror spread. She sank her face in
her hands; her fingers locked and twisted. She looked like one who
had become sane, and remembered her madness. “What am I?
What have I done?” She whispered the questions over and over; the
storm beat down upon her shoulders. He sat like one turned to
stone, not daring to touch her, powerless to put his pity into words.
—— And of this the bedraggled street-walker, whining up from the
pavement, was sole witness.
A policeman tramped heavy-footed out of the distance. “‘Ere you,
none o’ that. ‘Urry along.” This to the streetwalker. To the golden
woman, “H’anything the matter with the ‘osses, me lady?”
 She came to herself. The street-walker was limping into the
shadows. Her eyes followed her with fascination. She felt for her
purse; not finding it, she commenced unfastening the brooch that
was at her neck. Seeing her intention, Peter put his hand in his
pocket. She stayed him with an impatient gesture.
Calling to the woman, she leant down from the box and said
something.
The policeman waited stolidly. He repeated his question,
“H’anything the matter with the ‘osses, me lady?”
“No.”
She swung the coach round. There was no explanation.
Of that wild drive back through the night Peter saved but a blurred
remembrance. Scarcely a word was spoken—there was nothing that
could be said. After they had struck the open country, they went at a
gallop most of the journey. Every now and then they drew up at a
darkened inn. He climbed down from the box and hammered on a
closed door. A window opened. A rapid explanation. Grumbling.
Sleepy men appeared, only partly dressed, carrying lanterns. Horses
were taken out and a fresh team harnessed. As the dawn came up,
pale and haggard, he saw her face; it was hard-lipped and ashen.
He would never forget it. Every year showed. The golden hair had
broken loose; it was the only young thing left. She was no longer the
golden woman; he drove that night beside the figure of repentance.
Hills taken cruelly at a gallop! Cocks crowing! Unawakened towns!
The waking country! He pieced her into his experience. What was it
that women wanted? To be married and not to be married? To
accept the flattery of being loved and not to return it? Riska, his
Aunt Jehane, Glory, Cherry—all the women he had known—they
passed before him. He tried to read their eyes. Their heads were
bowed; all that he could learn of them was the pathetic frailty of
their bodies.
Marching through the meadows came Oxford, its spires
indomitably pointed against the clouds. Now they were traveling the
austere length of High Street. At Carfax they turned. On Folly Bridge
they drew up.
She had brought him back. He wanted to say something
generous.
“Lorie, he loves you. If he asks you again——”
She nodded. “If he asks me,” she said brokenly.
He walked along the edge of the river, golden in the early
summer’s morning, silver with mists curling from off it. He plunged
in at a point opposite the Calvary barge. As he swam, he looked
back. From the coach, high on the arch of the bridge, her eyes
followed him. Just before he landed, she raised the whip; the horses
strained forward.
Running through the meadows, he came to the wall which went
about Calvary, found a foothold and dropped safely over. After he
had undressed, he hid his dripping clothing. He was in bed and
sleeping soundly, when later in the morning his scout came to wake
him.
 CHAPTER XLIII—AN UNFINISHED
POEM

S
trong sunlight streamed across the foot of his bed. Below, in
the quad, he could hear the clatter of breakfast-dishes being
cleared away. Fumbling beneath his pillow, he pulled out his
watch. Ten o’clock! Time he dressed and got to work! Less than a
fortnight till his Finals, and he’d lost a day already!
A sound of running on the stairs! Someone was entering his outer
room.
“Hulloa! I’m still in bed. Who is it?”
The bedroom door flew open. Harry stood panting on the
threshold, holding a London paper in his hand. For all his haste, he
didn’t say a word. He simply stared—stared rather weakly and
stupidly, as though he’d forgotten what he’d come about. His lips
quivered. The twitching of his fingers made the paper crackle.
Peter raised himself on his elbow. “Got back all right, old man.
Why—.” He saw Harry’s face clearly; it was drawn and ghastly.
“Don’t look like that. What is it? For God’s sake, tell me.”
“Dead.”
“Dead?”
He threw back the clothes, leapt out and snatched the paper.
Standing in the sunlight he caught the head-line, TO SAVE OTHERS.
His eyes skipped the matter below it, gathering the sense: “At the
crowded hour—in Hyde Park yesterday afternoon—lost control of his
horse, Satan—bolted to where children were playing—swerved aside
—rode purposely into an iron fence—thrown and broke his neck.”
The paper fell from his hand. He picked it up and reread it. Some
mistake! He wouldn’t believe it. The Faun Man dead! He’d been so
brimming with life. Never again to hear his mandolin strumming!
Never again to hear his gallant laughter! To walk through the roses
at Tree-Tops—and he would not be there!
Peter sat down on the edge of the bed, clenching his forehead in
his hands. The voice, the gestures, everything—everything that had
been so essentially the Faun Man he wanted to recall before he
could forget.

“If yer gal ain’t all yer thought ‘er

And for everyfing yer’ve bought ‘er
She don’t seem to care——-”

He could see him bending over the strings slyly smiling. He had
been of such high courage that he could coin humor, out of his own
unhappiness.
Then, like a minor air played softly, “Lorie, he loves you. If he asks
you again—-” and the golden woman’s broken assent, “If he asks
me.”
She had kept him waiting too long. He had asked her for the last
time that morning. He couldn’t ask her again, however much she
desired it—couldn’t. She’d blamed him for his first neglect of her—
had made it an excuse for her own unfaithfulness. He hadn’t met
her. His neglect of her had been simply that he was dead.
Word came two days later—they had brought him home to Tree-
Tops. That evening Peter gained leave of absence.
Whitesheaves! The name was embroidered in geraniums on the
velvet of the close-cut turf. The train halted long enough for him to
alight, then pulled out puffing laboriously. It seemed an affront that
people should be journeying when across the fields the Faun Man
lay, his journey forever at an end. Only one other passenger got out
—a young chap, in flannels and a straw-hat, who was instantly
embraced by a radiant-faced girl. They sauntered arm-inarm to
where a dog-cart was standing and drove away into the evening
stillness, their heads bent together, their laughter floating back in
snatches.
Peter set out reluctantly by a short-cut through wheat-fields. He
didn’t want to prove to himself that it had happened. He was trying
to imagine that he had come on one of his surprise visits. He would
find the Faun Man dreaming, sprawled like a lean hound in the
twilight of the terraced garden.
The sun hung large and low in the west. A breeze swept the
country with a contented humming, bowing the heads of the corn.
In the distance, above Curious Corner, chiseled in the greenness of
the hill the white cross glistened. Through trees a spire shot up.
Beneath boughs thatched roofs of the village showed faintly. He
rounded a bend; the house to which he was going gazed down on
him. It hadn’t the look of a house of death. Its windows shone
valiantly above the pallor of the rose-garden, out-staring the
splendor of the fading west.
He climbed the red-tiled path—came to the threshold. The door
was hospitably open. Like birds hopping in and out of a hedge, the
breeze and the fragrance of flowers came and went. He knocked. No
one answered. He tiptoed in. A breathless silence! Mounting the
stairs, he came to the door with the iron latch, which gave entrance
to the Faun Man’s bedroom.
Flowers! He had always loved flowers. They were strewn on a bed
unnaturally white and unruffled. An unnatural peace was
everywhere. The sheet was turned back from the face; the brown
slight hands stretched straightly down. Each was held by a woman
who knelt beside him with her head bowed. The attitude of the
women was tragic with jealousy.
How long and graceful he looked in death! How gaunt and tired!
All the striving, the brave pretending, the famished yearning which
he had disguised showed plainly now. A smile hung about the
corners of his mouth—a little mocking perhaps, yet tender. A bruise
was on his forehead. He had the look of one who, having been
puzzled, understood life at last and was content.
 Peter felt that he had intruded. He had no right to stay there.
Those bowed heads reproached him. He felt what men often feel
when death is present: the body had been put out to usury; at the
end of the trafficking it belonged to women, as it had belonged to a
woman before the trafficking commenced.
He wandered out into the garden. Twilight weakened into
darkness. His feet were always coming back to the window; he
stood beneath it, looking up to where she knelt. If it were only for a
moment, surely she would come to him. Again he entered. No stir of
life in the house. He peered into the bedroom. She had not moved
since he left.
Beyond her was the door which led into the Faun Man’s study.
Noiselessly he stole across to it and raised the latch.
The room was in darkness. Set against the open window was a
desk. Moonlight drifted in on it. A chair was pushed back from it. A
pen lay carelessly on the blotting-pad, waiting for the master to
return. Here it was possible to believe that the mind still lived and
worked.
A movement! He stretched out his hand. Someone rose. Into the
shaft of moonlight came the face of a man. “Oh—oh, it’s you,
Harry!”
He struck a match and lit the lamp. They talked softly, in short
whispered sentences. On the floor, on tables, on chairs, books and
manuscripts lay scattered. The breeze blowing in at the window
turned pages, as though an invisible person were searching. A sheet
of paper, lying uppermost on the desk, fluttered across the room to
where Harry sat. He stooped, picked it up, ran his eye over it and
handed it to Peter. “The last thing he wrote. Thinking of her to the
end.”
Peter took it and read,

“She came to me and the world was glad—

‘Twas winter, but hedges leapt white with May;
 With snow of flowers my fields were clad,
Madly and merrily passed each day,
And next day and next day—
While all around
By others naught but the ice was found.
‘O ungrateful heart, were you ever sad?
She was coming to you from the first,’ I said.
She turned to me her eager head,
Clutching at what my thoughts did say.

“She went from me and the world was sad—

‘Twas spring-time and hedges were all a-sway;
With snow of winter my fields were clad,
Darkly and drearily passed each day,
And next day and next day—
While all around
By others naught but spring-buds were found.
‘O foolish heart, were you ever glad?
She was going from you from the first,’ I said.
She turned to me her eager head,
Clutching at what my thoughts did say.”

“Like his life—an unfinished poem.” Peter leant out to return it to

Harry, but found that he had fallen asleep in his chair.
The lamp burnt itself out. The chill of dawn was in the air.
Through the window the sky was gathering color, like life coming
back to the cheeks of the dead. The door opened slowly. Stiff with
long sitting he staggered to his feet. “Cherry!”
Pressing her finger against her lips, she motioned him to be silent.
Glancing at Harry she whispered, “The first sleep in two days, poor
fellow.”
 As he followed her across the dusk of the bed-chamber, a pool of
gold caught his attention; it glittered on the pillow by the face of the
Faun Man. The golden woman lay crouched like a pantheress beside
the body, her eyes half-shut and heavy with watching.
In the pallor of the rose-garden Cherry halted. She gave him both
her hands. “We can never be more to one another. Since this—I’m
quite certain now. I always wanted to be only friends.”
The heart of the waking world stopped beating. His hope was
ended. Clasping her hands against his breast, he drew her to him.
She gave him her cold lips. “For the last time.” She turned. He heard
her slow feet trailing up the stairs.
As he walked to the station through rustling wheat-fields the sun
lifted up his scarlet head, shaking free his hair, like a diver coming to
the surface at the end of a long plunge. Birds rose singing out of
corn and hedges, proclaiming that another summer’s day had
commenced. But Peter—he heard nothing, saw nothing of the
gladness. He saw only the final jest—the smile, half-mocking, half-
tender, that hung about the Faun Man’s mouth; and he heard
Cherry’s words, “I always wanted to be only friends.”
 CHAPTER XLIV—IN SEARCH OF
YOUNGNESS

T
o you I owns h’up; I ‘as me little failin’s, especially since Cat’s
Meat———He could never mention Cat’s Meat without wiping
his eyes. “But if I ‘as me little failin’s, that ain’t no reason for
callin’ me Judas His Chariot and h’other scripture nimes. She’s a
dustpot, that’s wot she is, my darter Grice.”
“A what?” asked Peter.
Mr. Grice was surprised that a man just down from Oxford
shouldn’t know the word; he was flattered to find himself in a
position to explain.
“A dustpot,” he repeated. “That means a child wot sits on ‘er
father’s ‘ead.”
“Oh, a despot!”
Mr. Grace had learnt to be patient under correction. “Now, Master
Peter, ain’t that wot I said? I sez, ‘She’s a dustpot’; then you sez,
‘Oh, a dustpot!’ ‘Owever yer calls it, that’s wot I calls ‘er.”
They were sitting in an empty cab in the stable from which Mr.
Grice hired his conveyance. Peter touched the old man’s hand
affectionately. “I’ve been wondering—thinking about you. You know,
I’m going traveling with Kay. My friend, the Faun Man, left me a
thousand pounds to buy what he called ‘a year of youngness.’ He
was great on youngness, was the Faun Man.”
Mr. Grace nodded. His eyes twinkled. “Remember that night, Peter,
and the song ‘e made h’up about yer?

‘Oh, Peter wuz ‘is nime,

So Peterish wuz ‘e,
 ‘E wept the sun’s h’eye back agen,
Lest ‘e should never see.‘=

H’I orften ‘um it ter the ‘osses when h’I’m a-groomin’ of ‘em.
Sorter soothes ‘em—maikes ‘em stand quiet.”
“I remember,” said Peter; “but here’s what I was going to say: you
hav’n’t had an awful lot of youngness in your life and yet you’re—
how old, Mr. Grace? Seventy? I should have guessed sixty. Well, it
doesn’t seem fair that I——.”
“Nar then, Master Peter! H’it’s fair enough. Don’t you go a-wastin’
o’ yer h’imagination. I don’t need no pityin’.”
“But it doesn’t seem fair, really; so I’m going to make you an offer
—a very queer offer. How’d you like to live in the country and get
away from Grace?”
“‘Ow’d I like it? ‘Ow’d a fly like ter git h’out o’ the treacle? ‘Ow’d a
dawg like ter find ‘isself rid o’ fleas? ‘Ow’d a——? Gawd bless me
soul—meanin’ no prefanity —wot a bloomin’ silly quesching!” He
paused reflectively. “But a dawg, Master Peter, gits sorter useter ‘is
fleas, and a fly might kinder miss the treacle. H’I’d like it well
enough; but if there warn’t nothink ter taik me thoughts h’orf o’
meself, I’d feel lonesome wivout ‘er naggin’.”
Peter laughed. “I’ll give you something to do with your thoughts.
My Uncle Ocky——.”
Mr. Grace woke up, turned ponderously and surveyed Peter.
“That’s h’it, is h’it? That awright. Rum old card, yer uncle! H’I never
fancied as h’I’d let h’anyone taik the plaice wot Cat’s Meat ‘eld in me
h’affections. ‘E ‘as. Tells me h’all ‘is troubles, ‘e does. Life’s gone ‘ard
wiv ‘im since Mr. Widder sent ‘im packin.’ My fault—I’m not denyin’
h’it. We ‘as our glass tergether and we both ‘ates wimmen—or sez
we does. ‘E borrers a bit from me nar and then. Mr. Waffles and me
is good pals—we ‘as lots in common. You, for h’instance.”
Peter inquired from Mr. Grace where he would be likeliest to find
his uncle.
 “Likeliest! H’if yer puts it that waie, h’I should saie yer’d be
likeliest ter find ‘im in a pub.”
Out of the tail of his eye Ocky saw Peter entering.
“Horrid stuff,” he said loudly; then in a whisper to the barmaid,
“Give me another three penn’orth.—— Why, hulloa, old son!”
Peter led him into a private room and said he’d pay for it. “D’you
remember that night at the Trocadero—you know, when Glory was
with us. I told you what I’d do for you if I ever had money. Suppose
I could give you a chance to pull straight, what would you do with
it?”
Tears came into Ocky’s eyes; he’d grown unused to kindness. “Is it
the truth you’re wanting, Peter?—— If you gave me the chance to
pull straight, I’d do what I’ve always done—mess it.”
Peter shook his head incredulously and smiled. “Don’t believe you.
You’d pull straight fast enough if you knew that anyone cared for
you.”
“No one does, except you, Peter.”
“Oh yes, there’s someone—someone whom you and I, yes, and I
believe all of us, are always forgetting.”
 Ocky looked up slowly. “You mean Glory.” He leant across the
table, tapping with his trembling fingers. “Know why I went to hell?
—it sounds weak to say it. I went to hell because I had no woman to
hold me back with love. If I could have Glory—-. But she’ll be
thinking of marrying. I’ve spoilt her chances enough already.”
 “If you could have Glory,” Peter insisted, “and if you were to have,
say, five hundred pounds, what would you do then?”
“The truth again?”
“Nothing else would be of any use, would it?”
“If I had five hundred pounds and Glory, I’d move into the country
and buy a pub. I’ve lived to be over fifty, I’ve learnt only one bit of
knowledge from life.”
“What is it?”
Ocky flushed. “To you I’m ashamed to say it.”
“Never mind. Say it.”
Ocky twirled his mustaches, covering his confusion, “To know
good beer when I taste it.”
Peter leant back laughing, “That’s something to start on, isn’t it?”
Next day he told Glory, “They’re willing—both of ‘em.”
In searching the papers for advertisements, he came upon an
announcement.
Near Henley, The Winged Thrush. Comfortable riverside hostelry;
pleasantly situated; suitable for artist or poet, desirous of combining
lucrative business with pleasure, etc. A bargain. Reason for selling,
going to Australia.
He remembered—that last night of the regatta, the sun-swept
morning, the glittering river, and the breakfast in the arbor with
Cherry.
The purchase was arranged. Ocky, Glory and Mr. Grace went down
to see the place. Mr. Grace was to look after the ‘osses—if there
were any; if there weren’t, he was to help in serving customers. For
a reason which he would not explain, Peter refused to accompany
them on their tour of inspection.
During those last days, before he and Kay set out on their year of
youngness, he saw Glory often. From her he learnt of Riska and her
many love-affairs; how they always fell short of marriage because
she carried on two at once or because of the deceit concerning her
father. She was getting desperate; she had been taught that the sole
purpose of her being was to catch a man—so far she had failed. She
still had hope—there was Hardcastle. In a sly way, she saw a good
deal of him. Exactly how and where, she had pledged Glory not to
divulge.
And Peter learnt of Eustace. Eustace had gone to Canada, to take
up farming with money lent by Barrington. Jehane, with her tragic
knack of hanging her expectations on loosened nails, boasted that
Eustace was to be her salvation. Perhaps he was careless, perhaps
he had gained a distaste for the atmosphere of falsity which had
formed his home environment; in any case, he wrote more and more
rarely, and showed less and less desire for his mother to join him as
the period of his absence lengthened. Jehane, as she had done with
his father before him, invented good news when good news was
lacking, bolstering her pride in public. Her children, despite her
sacrifices for them, watched her with judging eyes and, directly they
arrived at a reasoning age, began to detect her hollowness. Eustace
was gone. Glory was going. Riska, failing another accident, would
soon be married to Hardcastle. Only Moggs, Ma’s Left Over as they
had called her because of her tininess, remained. She was a child of
twelve, submissive in her ways, colorless in character and with
Ocky’s weak affectionateness of temperament.
It was the morning of Kay’s and Peter’s departure. During
breakfast, the last meal together, Barrington had sat looking at the
landscape by Cuyp, as he always did in moments of crisis. The cab
was at the door; the luggage had been carried out. The adventure in
search of youngness had all but begun. The door bell rang and the
knocker sounded. A telegram was handed in. Barrington opened it—
glanced at the signature. “Ah, from Jehane!”
As he read it, his face grew grave. He passed it to Nan and led
Peter aside. “Don’t tell Kay. It’s about Riska. She’s run off with that
fellow Hardcastle. Whether she’s married to him or——. It doesn’t
say.”
His own rendering of the situation was plain—“Ripe fruit, ready to
fall to the ground.”
 They entered the cab, driving into the great worldwideness. And
Riska, with her impatient mouth and pretty face, she also, in her
stormy way, had gone in quest of youngness.
 CHAPTER XLV—LOVE KNOCKS AT
KAY’S DOOR

T
he castle stood like a gleaming skull, balancing on the edge of
a precipice. The centuries had picked it clean. Through empty
sockets, about which moss gathered, it watched white wings
of shipping flit mothlike across the blue waters of the Gulf of Spezia.
It had been the terror of sailors once—a stronghold of pirates,
Saracens and Genoese, fierce men who had built the hunchback
town that huddled against the rocks behind it. Now it was nothing
but a crumbling shell, picturesque and meaningless save to tourists
and artists. The tourists came because Byron had written The
Corsair in its shadow, and the artists——.
One of them had left his canvas on an easel in a broken archway.
Kay tripped across and looked at it—a wild piece of composition, all
white and green and orange, splashed in with vigor, with the fierce
Italian sky above it. It interpreted the spirit of the place—its
loneliness, its lawless past, its brooding sense of unsatisfied passion.
She turned away, awed by its power, a little frightened by its
intensity. It made her feel that, from behind tumbled mastery, eyes
were gazing at her. Climbing the splintered tower, she watched the
sunset. In the great stillness she could hear stones dropping down
the sheer cliff into the racing tide beneath.
She had forgotten how time was passing. That low bass humming!
It was the voice of the sea; it seemed as though the sun’s voice
spoke to her. Across the blue of the Mediterranean a golden track led
up to the horizon. At its end a fiery disc hung, like a gong against
which the waves tapped gently.
It had been a tumultuous day—a day of excited fears, winged
hopes and strategies. Harry was coming. Peter had received the
astounding telegram that morning.
 “Queer chap! This was sent off from Genoa. He’s almost here by
now. Why on earth didn’t he let us know earlier?”
Why hadn’t he? Kay knew—because, if he had, there would have
been still time for her to turn him back. The persistent mouth-organ
boy, he was always quite certain that he had only to make up his
mind and he’d get his desire. She didn’t like him any the less for
that, but——.
No, she wouldn’t be there to meet him. She had excused herself
to Peter and had accompanied him to the sun-baked pier, at which
the steamer called on its way from Lerici to Spezia. She had waved
and waved till he was nearly out of sight—then she had fled.
Why? She couldn’t say—couldn’t say exactly, but very nearly. She
had forbidden her mouth-organ boy to come—and he was coming.
She was secretly elated to find herself defied. After all, she didn’t
own Italy, and——. But Harry wasn’t making the journey to see Italy,
nor to see Peter. She was well aware of that—Peter wasn’t.
So she had persuaded one of her fishermen friends to sail her
across the gulf to Porto Venere. Down there in the sleepy harbor he
was waiting, his brown eyes lazily watching, his ear-rings glittering,
his fingers rolling cigarettes, not at all perturbed but wondering, with
a shrug of his shoulders, why she so long delayed.
And Harry, he too would be wondering, thinking her unkind. Peter
had probably brought him back to San Terenzo by now. They would
have been on the lookout for her directly the steamer rounded the
cypressed headland. When they hadn’t found her on the pier, they
would have made haste to the yellow villa in which they lived, which
had been Shelley’s. And again, they hadn’t found her. She could
imagine it all—just what had happened: Peter’s discreet apologies,
and Harry’s amused suspicion that he was being punished. His
laughter—she could imagine that as well; he always laughed when
he was hurt or annoyed.
Kay clasped her hands. It was rotten of her not to go to him. All
day she had wanted to be with him. He had traveled all the way
from London to get a glimpse of her. And yet, knowing that, she sat
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