They did as he said, and walked about the Heath for nearly an hour. The fresh smell of spring exhilarated them, and they sat for a little while on a seat which was perched on rising ground so that they were able to see far beyond the common. Young bracken fronds were thrusting their curled heads upwards through the old brown growth; and the buds on the blackened boughs were bursting from their cases and offering delicate green leaves to the sunlight; and the yellow whins shone like little golden stars on their spiky stems. Henry's capacity for sensuous enjoyment was fully employed, and he would willingly have sat there until dusk, drawing his breath in with as much luxurious feeling as a woman has when she puts new linen on her limbs. He would have liked to strip and bathe his naked body in the Highgate Ponds or run with bare feet over the wet grass ... but Cecily was tired of the Heath.
"Isn't it time we got some tea?" she said, getting up and looking about her as if she were searching for a tea-shop.
"I suppose it is," he answered reluctantly, and he rose too. "We go this way," he said, moving in the direction of Jack Straw's Castle. "Let's come back to the Heath," he added, "after we've had tea!"
"But why?" she asked.
"Oh, because it's so beautiful."
"I thought it was getting chilly," she objected.
5
"I don't see why you want to go to Ireland," she exclaimed, as she handed a cup of tea to him.
"I've told you why," he said.
"Oh, but that isn't a reason. And why does Gilbert want to go? He isn't Irish."