his soul ? He did not know . He only knew that lovely Isabel Temple had now come to him and that he was hers forever . For a few moments that seemed years he looked at her -- looked till the lure of her eyes drew him to his feet as a man rises in sleep-walking . As he slowly stood up , the low-hanging bough of a fir tree pushed his cap down over his face and blinded him . When he snatched it off , she was gone . * * * * * Roger Temple did not go home that night till the spring dawn was in the sky . Catherine was sleepless with anxiety about him . When she heard him come up the stairs , she opened her door and peeped out . Roger went along the hall without seeing her . His brilliant eyes stared straight before him , and there was something in his face that made Catherine steal back to her bed with a little shiver of fear . He looked like his uncle . She did not ask him , when they met at breakfast , where or how he had spent the night . He had been dreading the question and was relieved beyond measure when it was not asked . But , apart from that , he was hardly conscious of her presence . He ate and drank mechanically and voicelessly . When he had gone out , Catherine wagged her uncomely grey head ominously . `` He 's bewitched , '' she muttered . `` I know the signs . He 's seen her -- drat her !
It 's time she gave up that kind XXXXX work .
along as at before like of that till to without