p or companion or something of that sort? I shouldn't want any
money."

He was silent for a moment.

"Does your mother know of this, Letty?" he asked.

"She wouldn't object," the girl answered eagerly. "She lets me do what I
like."

"Hadn't you better tell me--the rest?" Macheson asked quietly.

The girl looked away uneasily.

"There is no rest," she protested weakly.

Macheson shook his head.

"Letty," he said, "if you have formed any ideas of a definite future for
yourself, different from any you see before you here, tell me what they
are, and I will do my best to help you. But if you simply want to go
away because you are dissatisfied with the life here, because you fancy
yourself superior to it, well, I'm sorry, but I'd sooner prevent your
going than help you."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh! Mr. Macheson, it isn't that," she declared, "I--I don't want to
tell any one, but I'm very--very fond of some one who's--quite
different. I think he's fond of me, too," she added softly, "but he's
always used to being with ladies, and I wanted to improve myself so
much! I thought if I went to London," she added wistfully, "I might
learn?"

Macheson laughed cheerfully. He laid his hand for a moment upon her arm.

"Oh! Letty, Letty," he declared, "you're a foolish little girl! Now,
listen to me. If he's a good sort, and I'm sure he is, or you wouldn't
be fond of him, he'll like you just exactly as you are. Do you know what
it means to be a lady, the supreme test of good manners? It means to be
natural. Take my advice! Go on helping your mother, enter into the
village life, make friends with the other girls, don't imagine yourself
a bit superior to anybody else. Read when you have time--I'll manage the
books for you, and spend all the time you can out of doors. It's sound
advice, Letty. Take my word for it. Hullo, who's this?"

A new sound in the lane made them both turn their heads. Young Hurd had
just ridden up and was fastening his pony to the fence. He looked
across at them curiously, and Letty retreated precipitately into the
house. A moment or two later he came up the narrow path, frowning at
Macheson over the low hedge of foxgloves and cottage roses, and barely
returning his courteous greeting. For a moment he hesitated, however, as
though about to speak. Then, changing his mind, he passed on and entered
the farmhouse.

He met Mrs. Foulton herself in the passage, and she welcomed him with a
smiling fac