brought her forget-me-nots. And, again, his heart hurt with love, seeing her hand, used with work, holding the little bunch of flowers he gave her. She was perfectly happy.
But at the end of the riding was a fence to climb. Paul was over in a second.
“Come,” he said, “let me help you.”
“No, go away. I will do it in my own way.”
He stood below with his hands up ready to help her. She climbed cautiously.
“What a way to climb!” he exclaimed scornfully, when she was safely to earth again.
“Hateful stiles!” she cried.
“Duffer of a little woman,” he replied, “who can’t get over ’em.”
In front, along the edge of the wood, was a cluster of low red farm buildings. The two hastened forward. Flush with the wood was the apple orchard, where blossom was falling on the grindstone. The pond was deep under a hedge and overhanging oak-trees. Some cows stood in the shade. The farm and buildings, three sides of a quadrangle, embraced the sunshine towards the wood. It was very still.
Mother and son went into the small railed garden, where was a scent of red gillivers. By the open door were some floury loaves, put out to cool. A hen was just coming to peck them. Then, in the doorway suddenly appeared a girl in a dirty apron. She was about fourteen years old, had a rosy dark face, a bunch of short black curls, very fine and free, and dark eyes; shy, questioning, a little resentful of the strangers, she disappeared. In a minute another figure appeared, a small, frail woman, rosy, with great dark brown eyes.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, smiling with a little glow, “you’ve come, then. I am glad to see you.” Her voice was intimate and rather sad.
The two women shook hands.
“Now are you sure we’re not a bother to you?” said Mrs. Morel. “I know what a farming life is.”
“Oh no! We’re only too thankful to see a new face, it’s so lost up here.”
“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Morel.
They were taken through into the parlour—a long, low room, with a great bunch of guelder-roses in the fireplace. There the women talked, whilst Paul went out to survey the land. He was in the garden smelling the gillivers and looking
