CHAPTER XXVII THE WAY TO HAPPINESS

It was a glorious afternoon. From far below, at the foot of the cliffs, came the pleasant murmur of a lazy summer sea. Overhead, white, filmy drifts of cloud floated leisurely across the deep blue August sky, while underfoot the dry, springy turf of the downs yielded as softly to Shirley’s footsteps as cushioned velvet. But neither the beauty of sea and sky nor the flood of golden sunshine which bathed the country-side brought her any wonted thrill of pleasure. She seemed completely oblivious of her surroundings an…