er,' my granny used to say: 'Come
spring, back she'll be, if not him; for there's two things certain and
they won't change, my time or yours,' she said. 'An Appleyard must own
a good horse, and a gypsy woman must come back.' But, you see, for
once my granny was in the wrong of it, for 'twas a full hundred years
ago, what I'm telling ye, and they never came."

A slow, satisfied smile crept over the peddler woman's firm lips. Her
eyes rested on the great, browsing bay; her strong sea-browned hand
caressed the watchful dog's head; the odour of the may in the hedge
filled her nostrils. Life spread before her.

"No, farmer, your granny was right," she said gravely, "gypsy women
always come back."

THE WARNING

Weldon leaned forward slightly in his chair, his hands loose between
his knees, and faced the president steadily. The moment had come. All
his rehearsals of it, all his tremours, all his incredulities must end
here. He felt a distinct surprise at his collected coolness, his
almost amused grasp of the situation. Except for the tense, guarded
muscles that a month's racking, overworked strain had left conscious of
their possible trickiness, he was absolutely himself.

And yet, what had the doctor warned him? To be very cautious when he
felt so especially clear-headed and calm, after days of strain--yes,
just that. And when he had expostulated, "But, my dear Stanchon, how
foolish!" had not the doctor replied, "All right, old man, but didn't
you tell me that it was always after such little exaltations"--he had
shrugged impatiently at the phrase--"that you were subject to these
strange dozes you describe?"

"Not exactly dozes," he had objected. Dozes, indeed! Those months and
years of experiences that raced by--and one woke with a start, to
realise that the clock was still striking! It was this, too often
repeated, that had sent him against his will to the rising specialist:
he remembered so well the dark, sympathetic eyes of the office nurse
who had brought him the much-needed stimulant after he had yielded to
one of the curious fits at his very first consultation.

After he had passed out from the inner office with echoes of that
futile order to cease all business for six weeks (to stop, _now!_ to
leave with the fruit almost in his hand!) and commands as to a southern
sea-trip stimulating his taut, trembling nerves, he had sunk for a
moment into a chair near the door, just to rest his head in his