left!" she cried.

"Then I won't tell you about the third thing."

She said solemnly, "You ought to have no secrets from me."

"Have you none from me?"

"Not one. Except--but that's so silly--except the tinker."

"Tell me that one."

She obeyed him, and she frowned a little, because she could not
understand why the thing should need telling. "And then I went on to the
moor, and George Halkett ran after me, and I thought it was the tinker."

"Why," Zebedee asked, "did he run after you?"

"He must have thought I was some one else."

"Why does he run after anybody?"

"Because he's George, I think, and if John were here he would tell you
the story of how he tried to kiss Lily Brent!"

"That sort of animal oughtn't to be let loose."

"I like him," Helen said. "I'm sorry for him."

"H'm," said Zebedee. "Well, you have the dog."

"Oh," she said, "he isn't like that with me. We've known each other all
our lives. And you don't mind about the tinker?"

"I don't think so."

"It's not nearly so bad," she persuaded him, "as the real woman you once
liked."

He did not contradict her. "We're not going to argue about dreams and
the past. We haven't time for that."

"And I haven't begun to thank you! I knew you were going to bring a
dog!"

"Who told you?"

"I just knew you'd think of it. But two lovely presents in one day, and
both from you! But I feel--I feel--"

"I know. You want to drown the dog and throw the ring away as hostages
for my safety."

"Yes, don't laugh."

"My dear," he said wearily, "there are moments when one can do nothing
else."

"I'm sorry. And don't be angry with me in case you make me love you too
much to let you go! And I'm brave, really. I promise to be good."

He nodded in his quick way while he looked at her as though, in spite of
all he said, he feared he might never look at her again, and she was
proud of his firm lips and steady eyes in the moment of the passionate
admiration which lived with her like a presence while he was away.

CHAPTER XXII

Helen passed into a pale windy world one February morning and walked
slowly down the track. There was no sharpness in the air and the colours
of approaching spring seemed to hover between earth and heaven, though
they promised soon to lay themselves down to make new green and splendid
purple and misty blue. Slow-moving clouds paced across the sky, and as
she looked at them Helen thought of Zebedee sailing under richer colo