nst one of the posts which supported the shed, and gazed
at her with more intense interest than any other woman had ever aroused
in him.

"Isn't there a foreman, a bailiff, whatever you call him, in these
parts?"

She shook her head.

"No; we cannot afford one; so I do his work. And very pleasant work it
is, especially in fine weather."

"And you are happy?" he asked, almost unconsciously.

Her frank eyes met his with a smile of amusement.

"Yes, quite happy," she answered. "Why? Does it seem so unlikely, so
unreasonable?"

"Well, it does," he replied, as if her frankness were contagious. "Of
course, I could understand it if you did it occasionally, if you did it
because you liked riding; but to be obliged, to have to go out in all
weathers, it isn't right!"

She looked at him thoughtfully.

"Yes, I suppose it seems strange to you. I suppose most of the ladies
you know are rich, and only ride to amuse themselves, and never go out
when they do not want to do so. Sir Stephen Orme--you--are very rich,
are you not? We, my father and I, are poor, very poor. And if I did not
look after things, if I were not my own bailiff--Oh, well, I don't know
what would happen."

Stafford gnawed at his moustache as he gazed at her. The exquisitely
colourless face, in which the violet eyes glowed like two twin flowers,
the delicately cut lips, soft and red, the dark hair clustering at the
ivory temples in wet rings, set his heart beating with a heavy
pulsation that was an agony of admiration and longing--a longing that
was vague and indistinct.

"Yes, I suppose it must seem strange to you," she said, as if she were
following out the lines of her own thoughts. "You must be accustomed to
girls who are so different."

"Yes, they're different," he admitted. "Most of the women I know would
be frightened to death if they were caught in such a rain as this;
would be more than frightened to death if they had to ride down that
hill most of 'em think they've done wonder if they get in at the end of
a run over a fairly easy country; and none of 'em could doctor a sick
sheep to save their lives."

"Yes," she said, dreamily. "I've seen them, but only at a distance. But
I didn't know anything about farming until I came home."

"And do you never go away from here, go to London for a change and get
a dance, and--and all that?" he asked.

She shook her head indifferently.

"No, I never leave the dale. I cannot. My father could not spar