and she half sang, half hummed the jewel song from
"Faust." She had looked beautiful enough in her old riding-habit and
hat, but she seemed a vision of loveliness as she stood in the
moonlight with the old house for a background. There was something
bewitchingly virginal in the rapt and dreamy face with its dark eyes
and long lashes, in the soft, delicately cut lips, the pure ivory
pallor; at the same time something equally bewitching in the modernness
of her dress, which was of soft cream cashmere, made rather long and in
accord with the present fashion; she had placed a rose in the bosom of
her dress and it stood out redly, richly from the soft cream. Her hair
was no longer rough and touzled by the wind, but brushed in rippling
smoothness and coiled in dainty neatness in the nape of her graceful
neck. No wonder Stafford caught his breath, held it, as it were, as he
gazed at the exquisite picture, which formed so striking a contrast to
her surroundings.

She leant her chin on her hand and looked before her as she sung
softly; and at that moment her thoughts strayed from the question of
what she should do to keep the cows from the lawn, to the young man who
had rescued her lamb for her. She did not think of him with anything
like interest or curiosity, but she was recalling the ludicrous picture
he made as he struggled to the bank with the lamb in his arms, and a
faint smile crossed her face. At this moment Donald and Bess strolled
out to join her. They would much have preferred to have remained
roasting themselves in front of the Hall fire, but, ridiculous as it
was for their mistress to leave the warm house for the comparatively
cold terrace, they felt themselves in duty bound to join her.
Perhaps they might catch sight of a rabbit to repay them for
their exertions. Donald walked with stately steps toward his
mistress, and Bess was following, with a shiver of reluctance
and a backward glance towards the fire-light which shone through
the open door, when suddenly she sniffed the presence of a
stranger, and, with a sharp yap, hurled herself down the broad steps
and towards the spot where Stafford still stood. Donald, with a loud
bay, followed with his long stride, and Ida, startled from her reverie,
followed as far as the top of the steps, and waited.

"I might have expected the faithful watch-dog," said Stafford to
himself. "Now, what on earth am I to do? I suppose they'll spring on
me--the collie, at any rate. It's