Almost against his will David crossed the space that lay between them and looked down at the bubbling stream. "I knew this was here," he said. "I came in search of a moment's peace. Did you?"

"No," she admitted, "but I recognized it immediately when I found it. I like being alone. Just thinking and enjoying nature. Sometimes one tires of having to be gay all the time."

He looked down at her in some surprise. "It is the smiling that tires me," he confided. "One becomes afraid that the expression will become habitual and one will be doomed to go around for the rest of one's life grinning like an idiot."

Rachel laughed. "But you are always smiling anyway," she said.

He grimaced to give the lie to her words. "You mean it has happened already?" he asked in mock horror.

"Oh, no." Rachel laughed again, in delight. "I did not mean a social smile." She regarded him for a moment, her head to one side, "It comes from inside, I think. Even when your face is in repose, as it is now, there is a smile behind your eyes. And on your lips. I cannot explain exactly."

He stooped down on his haunches beside her. "You terrify me," he said with a more open smile. "Can you read my mind too?"

"No," she said, embarrassed suddenly. "But I think you are a happy man. Are you?"

He did not answer for a moment. He looked at her with close scrutiny. "Yes, I am," he said quietly. "Strange. My godmother has just been telling me how unhappy I must be to be going to a parish in the country. Perhaps she has not looked as deeply into my eyes as you have."