he
could not think while he was occupied and thought was disturbing. He put
the sheep into a field and overtook Osborn as he went up the farm lonning
in the dark. A lamp burned in the kitchen, and when they went in Peter
got up and put his pipe on the table. He looked at them with some
surprise, but waited without embarrassment. Indeed, Kit thought his
father was curiously dignified.

"Mr. Osborn has something to say he wants you to hear," Kit remarked.
"Although the thing's really my business, I agreed."

Osborn refused the chair Peter indicated and stood in a stiff pose. His
face was red and he looked rather ridiculously savage.

"I found your son and my daughter hiding from me in the hedge at Redmire
wood," he said. "I imagine I'm entitled to ask for an explanation."

"Hiding?" said Peter, who turned to Kit. "That was wrong."

"It was wrong," Kit admitted. "I told Mr. Osborn so. In fact, I must have
lost my head when I made a mistake like this. Since I had the honor of
Miss Osborn's acquaintance--"

"Who presented you to my daughter?" Osborn interrupted.

"Nobody," Kit admitted, with some embarrassment. "The day the otter
hounds were hunting the alder pool Miss Osborn wanted to cross the
stepping stones. Some of them were covered and I--"

"Ah!" said Osborn. "Then the thing began as long since as that?" He
turned to Peter. "The girl is young and foolishly proud of being
unconventional, or she would have known that she could make use of your
son's help without an obligation to speak to him again. It's obvious that
he has worked on her rebellious humor until she forgot what is due to
herself and her parents."

"Stop a bit," said Peter. "She was doing her parents no discredit by
speaking to my son."

"No discredit!" Osborn exclaimed, losing his self control. "When I find
her and the fellow skulking out of sight, like a farm hand and a
dairy-maid!"

Kit raised his head and his eyes sparkled. "In a sense, I am a farm hand;
but it would be better if you kept your hard words for me."

"There are verra good dairymaids; modest, hardworking lasses,"
Peter remarked.

"It's rather late to play the part of a rustic cavalier, if that is what
you meant," Osborn said to Kit with a sneer, and then turned to Peter. "I
am forced to own that the girl deserves some blame. Although she's
impulsive and unconventional, she ought to have seen it was ridiculous to
let your son imagine they could be friends."

"You think tha