"After that, you must find the dale very tame," Grace remarked, and
quietly studied Kit.

She had liked his honesty and resolution before he went abroad, but he
had gained something she had not noted then. Although he wore rough
working clothes and had obviously been digging, he had an elusive touch
of distinction, and there was a hint of command in his quiet look. He had
seen the world, confronted dangers, and used power, and this had put a
stamp on him.

"It is hard to imagine you a pirate," she remarked with a twinkle. "You
don't look the part, and, no doubt, like other occupations, it requires
some study."

Kit laughed. "One does the best one can! I rather think taking trouble
and a determination to make good are as useful as specialized training."

"Perhaps that's true. It's curious, in a way, but I expect a good farmer,
for example, might make a successful buccaneer. One understands, though,
that the last pirate was hanged a hundred years since."

"There are a few left, although their methods have changed with the
times. Some day I would like to tell you about my uncle. He was, so to
speak, a survival, and I think you would appreciate him. But how have
things been going in the dale?"

Grace's twinkle vanished, her look became serious, and Kit thought he
noted signs of strain. After all, she had changed since he left Ashness.
It was not that she looked older, although she was now a rather stately
woman and not an impulsive girl; he felt that she had known care.

"On the whole," she said, "things have not gone very well. We have had
wet summers and heavy snow in spring. The flocks are poor and rents have
come down. Bell has gone; he quarreled with Hayes about some new
machinery for the mill. All is much the same at Tarnside, though my
father is not so active. Gerald left Woolwich--perhaps you knew--and is
in a London bank."

Kit hid his surprise. Gerald was not the stuff of which good bank clerks
are made, although Osborn's influence with the local manager had, no
doubt, got him the post. Kit imagined the lad had been forced to leave
Woolwich, but money must be scarce at Tarnside, since he had gone into
business. This threw some light on the hint of weariness he had noted
about Grace. If fresh economy was needful, she and Mrs. Osborn must
carry the load.

"Hayes is still your agent. I met him yesterday and he gave me a sour
nod," Kit remarked.

"Yes," said Grace, and added quietly: "I sometimes wish he