ose will she had brushed aside and
replaced by her own from the time she was eight years old. Legally, she
was not of age till twenty-one; in reality, she was of age at fifteen or
thereabouts. She consulted Colonel St. John, her guardian, about her
affairs, as an act of grace, because she was so fond of him and wouldn't
hurt his feelings for anything; but she made no secret of the fact that
at twenty-one she was going to be absolutely her own mistress.

"You are your own mistress now," Colonel St. John said once, a little
ruefully. "You never do what I wish--you make me do what _you_ wish.
Don't go too fast, Agatha, my dear. At twenty-one one is not wiser than
old people, though one may feel so."

But he knew that he was talking to empty air. She was so eager to lay
hold on life. And she was equipped for it--there was no doubt of that.
Mr. Grainger, of Grainger, Ellison and Wells, who had had charge of the
business of the estate from time immemorial, whose trade it was to be
cautious, was cheerful over the Colonel's misgivings.

"You wouldn't feel anxious if she was a lad," he said. "I'd set her
against nine hundred and ninety lads out of a thousand for sound
common-sense. She won't do anything foolish. Take my word for it, she
won't do anything foolish."

She did not do anything foolish. She took her own way about some things
against Colonel St. John, and even against Mr. Grainger, but she turned
out to be right in the end. She had a good many people dependent in one
way or another upon her for their well-being, and she insisted on coming
face to face with these--on dealing with them without an intermediary.
And she made no mistakes. She could see through shifty dishonesty as
well as if she had had three times her years and a wide knowledge of the
seamy side of human nature. She had always been an outdoor girl, and now
she displayed a knowledgeable interest in her own Home Farm and in the
affairs of her tenants.

She used to say that the days were not long enough for all she had to
do. Certainly, she contrived to cram into them three times as much
pleasure, business, and philanthropy as her neighbours.

She had an idea of the obligations of her position as lady of the soil
which made poor Colonel St. John gasp when she talked about it. There
was so much to be done for the people--churches to be built, or chapels,
if they preferred them, and school-houses, industries to be fostered--so
much encouragement to be giv