subtle, than even his fancy had painted
it. He noticed the touch of colour just below her white slender column
of a neck, and wondered why no other woman had ever thought of wearing
a crimson tie with her habit.

"What a grand morning," he said. "I don't think I ever saw a morning
like this, so clear and bright; those hills there look as though they
were quite near."

"It's the rain," she explained. "It seems to wash the atmosphere. My
father says there is only one other place which has this particular
clearness and brightness after rain: and that's Ireland. There are the
sheep. Now," she smiled, "do you know how to count them?"

He stared at her.

"You begin at number one, I suppose," he said.

She smiled.

"But where is number one?"

She spoke to Donald in a low voice, then the collie began to work the
sheep up into a heap; Bess assisting with her sharp yap.

"Now they're ready," said Ida. "You must be quick."

Stafford began to count, but the sheep moved and the ones he had
counted got mixed up with the others, and he began again and yet again,
until he turned with a puzzled and furrowed brow.

"I can't count them," he said. "They won't keep still for a single
moment."

She turned to him with a smile.

"There are fifty-two," she said.

"Do you mean to say that you've counted them already?" he exclaimed.

"Yes; I could have counted them twice over by this time. Now, begin
again, and begin from the farthest row; and remember when you come to a
black one. Keep your eye on that one and start again front him. It's
quite easy when you know how." He began again.

"I make it forty-eight."

She shook her head and laughed.

"That would be four missing, and we should have to hunt for them. But
they are all there. Try again." He tried--and made it fifty-six.

"Didn't I tell you that I was an idiot!" he said, in despair.

"Oh, you can't expect to learn the first time," she said, consolingly.
"It was weeks before I could do it; and I almost cried the first few
times I tried: they would move just as I was finishing."

"Oh, well, then I can hope to get it in time," he said. "Did it ever
strike you that though we think ourselves jolly clever, that there are
heaps of things which a workingman--the men we look down upon--can do
which we couldn't accomplish if it were to save our lives. For
instance, I couldn't make a horseshoe if my existence depended upon it,
and yet it looks as easy as--"

--"Counting she