want it any longer."

Her grandfather had turned back again, and did not hear the boy's
reply. As soon as the white-haired man had vanished she said in a
tone of pique to the child, "Ungrateful little boy, how can you
contradict me? Never shall you have a bonfire again unless you keep
it up now. Come, tell me you like to do things for me, and don't deny
it."

The repressed child said, "Yes, I do, miss," and continued to stir the
fire perfunctorily.

"Stay a little longer and I will give you a crooked six-pence," said
Eustacia, more gently. "Put in one piece of wood every two or three
minutes, but not too much at once. I am going to walk along the ridge
a little longer, but I shall keep on coming to you. And if you hear a
frog jump into the pond with a flounce like a stone thrown in, be sure
you run and tell me, because it is a sign of rain."

"Yes, Eustacia."

"Miss Vye, sir."

"Miss Vy--stacia."

"That will do. Now put in one stick more."

The little slave went on feeding the fire as before. He seemed a
mere automaton, galvanized into moving and speaking by the wayward
Eustacia's will. He might have been the brass statue which Albertus
Magnus is said to have animated just so far as to make it chatter,
and move, and be his servant.

Before going on her walk again the young girl stood still on the
bank for a few instants and listened. It was to the full as lonely a
place as Rainbarrow, though at rather a lower level; and it was more
sheltered from wind and weather on account of the few firs to the
north. The bank which enclosed the homestead, and protected it from
the lawless state of the world without, was formed of thick square
clods, dug from the ditch on the outside, and built up with a slight
batter or incline, which forms no slight defense where hedges will not
grow because of the wind and the wilderness, and where wall materials
are unattainable. Otherwise the situation was quite open, commanding
the whole length of the valley which reached to the river behind
Wildeve's house. High above this to the right, and much nearer
thitherward than the Quiet Woman Inn, the blurred contour of
Rainbarrow obstructed the sky.

After her attentive survey of the wild slopes and hollow ravines a
gesture of impatience escaped Eustacia. She vented petulant words
every now and then, but there were sighs between her words, and sudden
listenings between her sighs. Descending from her perch she again
sauntered off towards