urch--so she says."

Helen changed her iron and worked on. She moved rhythmically and her
bare forearms were small and shapely, but Daniel did not look at her. He
seemed to be interested in the wrinkled boots he wore, and occasionally
he uttered a sad; "Puss, Puss," to the cat sleeping before the fire. A
light breeze was blowing outside and Helen sometimes paused to look
through the open window.

"Our poplars are getting their leaves," she said. "It's strange that I
have never seen your garden. Are there any trees in it?"

He sat like a half-empty sack of grain, and slowly, with an effort, he
raised his head. "What did you say?"

"Have you any trees in your garden?"

"There's a holly bush in the front and one of those thin trees that have
berries--red berries."

"A rowan! Oh, I'm glad you have a rowan!" She looked as though he had
made a gift to her.

He was born to ask questions. "Why?" he said, with his first gleam of
interest.

"Oh, I like them. Is there a garden at the back?"

"Apple-trees," he sighed. "No fruit."

"They must want pruning. You know, gardening would do you good."

He shook his head. "Too long in the back."

"And Zebedee hasn't time?"

"No, he hasn't time." Daniel was wondering where Miriam was, and how
long Rupert would be, and though Helen knew she wearied him, she went on
serenely.

"Is he very busy now?"

"Yes."

"I can't think why people get ill in the spring, just when the lovely
summer's coming. Does he get called up at night?"

"I suppose so." He was growing tired of this. "But when I'm in bed, I'm
asleep, you know."

"Ah, that's nice for you," Helen said with a touch of irony as she
carefully pulled out the lace of a dainty collar. "Isn't he rather
lonely when you are up here?"

"Lonely!" Daniel's mouth dropped wider and while he tried to answer this
absurd question adequately, Rupert entered the room.

"I told you to meet me outside the Bull, you old idiot."

Like Miriam, Rupert had the effect of fortifying the life of his
surroundings, but, unlike her, he had a happy trick of seeming more
interested in others than in himself. He saw at once, with something
keener than his keen eyes, that Daniel was bored, that Helen was at work
on more than ironing, and with his entrance he scattered the vague
dissension which was abroad. The kitchen recovered from the gloom with
which Daniel had shadowed it and Daniel himself grew brighter.

"I thought you said the Plover."