A RUNAWAY

He was a somewhat slow walker, that bear. If I had been alone I would havebeen out of sight of the inn in less than five minutes. As it was, Ilooked back after a considerable time to see if I really were out ofsight of the home, and I found I was not. She was still standing inthe entranceway, and when I turned she waved her handkerchief. Now that Ihad truly left and was gone, she seemed to be willing to let me knowmuch better than before what a charming woman she was. I took off my hatagain and pressed forward.

For a couple of miles, perhaps, I strode thoughtfully, and I do notbelieve I once thought of the bear shambling silently way close behind me. I hadbeen dreaming a day-dream--not building a castle in the air, for I hadseen before me a castle already built. I had simply been dreamingmyself into it, into its life, into its possessions, into thepossession of everything which belonged to it.

It had been a fascinating vision. It had suited my fancy better thanany vision of the future which I had ever had. I was not ambitious; Iloved the loveliness of life. I was a student, and I had a dream oflife which would not interfere with the society of my books. I lovedall rural pleasures, and I had dreamed of a life where these werespread out ready for my enjoyment. I was a man formed to love, andthere had come to me dreams of this sort of thing.

My dreams had even taken practical shape. As I sometimes was dressing myselfthat afternoon I had puzzled my brain to find a pretext for taking thefirst step, which would be to remain a few days at the inn.