ke a farmer as possible; but no farmer in the
dales had that peculiar air of birth and breeding which distinguished
Stafford Orme; the air which his father had been so quick to detect and
to be proud of.

She noticed how well he sat the great horse, with what ease and "hands"
he rode over the rough and treacherous ground. Suddenly he turned his
head and saw her, and with a wave of his hand came galloping up to her,
with a smile of relief and gladness on his handsome face, as he spoke
to the dogs, who clamoured round him.

"I was so afraid I had missed you," he said. "I am late, am I not? Some
people kept me after breakfast."

"You are not late; I don't think any time was mentioned," she
responded, quickly, though her heart was beating with a strange and
novel sensation of pleasure in his presence. "I scarcely expected you."

He looked at her reproachfully.

"Not expect me! But why?"

"I thought you might change your mind," she said.

He checked a quick response, and said instead:

"And now, where do we go first? You see I have got a bit heavier horse.
He's a present, also, from my father. What do you think of him?"

She eyed him gravely and critically.

"He's nice-looking," she said, "but I don't like him so well as the one
you rode yesterday. Didn't I see him slip just now, coming up the
hill?"

"Did he?" said Stafford. "I didn't notice. To tell you the truth, I was
so delighted at seeing you that I don't think I should have noticed if
he had tumbled on his nose."

"Oh, it wasn't much of a slip," she said, quickly, to cover her slight
confusion at his candid confession. "Shall we go down to the sheep
first?"

"Anywhere you like," he assented, brightly. "Remember, I'm your pupil."

She glanced at him and smiled.

"A very big pupil."

"But a very humble one," he said. "I'm afraid you'll add, 'a very
stupid one,' before long."

As they rode down hill, Stafford stole a look at her unobserved. Ever
since he had left her yesterday her face had haunted him, even while
Maude Falconer, in all her war paint and sparkling with jewels, had
been singing, even in the silent watches of the night, when--strange
thing for him!--he had awakened from a dream of her; he had recalled
the exquisitely lovely face with its grave yet girlish eyes, and he
felt now, with a thrill, that she was even more lovely than she had
been in his thoughts and his dreams; that the nameless charm which had
haunted him was stronger, more