Brand pulled towards him a spray of damask roses and inhaled their sweetness. Then he turned to his companion and gave him an evil leer.
“The Doctor and Philippa have taken advantage of our absorbing conversation,” he remarked.
“Nonsense, man, nonsense!” exclaimed the priest. “Raughty’s only showing her some sort of moth or beetle. Can’t you stop your sneering for once and look at things humanly and naturally?”
His words found their immediate justification. Turning the corner of the house they discovered the two escaped ones on their knees by the edge of the dew-drenched lawn watching the movements of a toad. The Doctor was gently directing its advance with the stalk of a dead geranium and Philippa was laughing as merrily as a little girl.
They now realized the cause of the disappearance of the sultriness and the heat. From over the wide-stretching fens came, with strong steady breath, the north-west wind. It came with a full deep coolness in it which the plants and the trees seemed to drink from as out of some immortal cistern. It brought with it the odour of immense marsh-lands and fresh inland waters and as it bowed the trees and rustled over the flower-beds, it seemed to obliterate and drive back all indications of their nearness to the sea.
Raughty and Philippa rose to their feet at the approach of their friends.
“Doctor,” said Brand, “what’s the name of that great star over there—or planet—or whatever it is?”
They all surveyed the portion of the sky he indicated and contemplated the unknown luminary.
“I wish they’d taught me astronomy instead of Greek verses when I was at school,” sighed Mr. Traherne.
“It’s Venus, I suppose,” remarked Dr. Raughty. “Isn’t it Venus, Philippa?”