, sir," says I, "and I hope you and God will forgi'e
me for saying what you wouldn't." To save your life you couldn't help
laughing, sir, at a poor wambler reading your thoughts so plain. Ay, I'm
as wise as one here and there.'

'I thought you had better have a practical man to go over the church and
tower with you,' Mr. Swancourt said to Stephen the following morning,
'so I got Lord Luxellian's permission to send for a man when you came. I
told him to be there at ten o'clock. He's a very intelligent man, and
he will tell you all you want to know about the state of the walls. His
name is John Smith.'

Elfride did not like to be seen again at the church with Stephen. 'I
will watch here for your appearance at the top of the tower,' she said
laughingly. 'I shall see your figure against the sky.'

'And when I am up there I'll wave my handkerchief to you, Miss
Swancourt,' said Stephen. 'In twelve minutes from this present moment,'
he added, looking at his watch, 'I'll be at the summit and look out for
you.'

She went round to the corner of the shrubbery, whence she could watch
him down the slope leading to the foot of the hill on which the church
stood. There she saw waiting for him a white spot--a mason in his
working clothes. Stephen met this man and stopped.

To her surprise, instead of their moving on to the churchyard, they
both leisurely sat down upon a stone close by their meeting-place, and
remained as if in deep conversation. Elfride looked at the time; nine
of the twelve minutes had passed, and Stephen showed no signs of moving.
More minutes passed--she grew cold with waiting, and shivered. It was
not till the end of a quarter of an hour that they began to slowly wend
up the hill at a snail's pace.

'Rude and unmannerly!' she said to herself, colouring with pique.
'Anybody would think he was in love with that horrid mason instead of
with----'

The sentence remained unspoken, though not unthought.

She returned to the porch.

'Is the man you sent for a lazy, sit-still, do-nothing kind of man?' she
inquired of her father.

'No,' he said surprised; 'quite the reverse. He is Lord Luxellian's
master-mason, John Smith.'

'Oh,' said Elfride indifferently, and returned towards her bleak
station, and waited and shivered again. It was a trifle, after all--a
childish thing--looking out from a tower and waving a handkerchief. But
her new friend had promised, and why should he tease her so? The effect
of a blow i