such that he hardly was conscious of Marty's presence
beside him. From the nature of their employment, in which he handled
the spade and she merely held the tree, it followed that he got good
exercise and she got none. But she was an heroic girl, and though her
out-stretched hand was chill as a stone, and her cheeks blue, and her
cold worse than ever, she would not complain while he was disposed to
continue work. But when he paused she said, "Mr. Winterborne, can I
run down the lane and back to warm my feet?"

"Why, yes, of course," he said, awakening anew to her existence.
"Though I was just thinking what a mild day it is for the season. Now I
warrant that cold of yours is twice as bad as it was. You had no
business to chop that hair off, Marty; it serves you almost right.
Look here, cut off home at once."

"A run down the lane will be quite enough."

"No, it won't. You ought not to have come out to-day at all."

"But I should like to finish the--"

"Marty, I tell you to go home," said he, peremptorily. "I can manage
to keep the rest of them upright with a stick or something."

She went away without saying any more. When she had gone down the
orchard a little distance she looked back. Giles suddenly went after
her.

"Marty, it was for your good that I was rough, you know. But warm
yourself in your own way, I don't care."

When she had run off he fancied he discerned a woman's dress through
the holly-bushes which divided the coppice from the road. It was Grace
at last, on her way back from the interview with Mrs. Charmond. He
threw down the tree he was planting, and was about to break through the
belt of holly when he suddenly became aware of the presence of another
man, who was looking over the hedge on the opposite side of the way
upon the figure of the unconscious Grace. He appeared as a handsome
and gentlemanly personage of six or eight and twenty, and was quizzing
her through an eye-glass. Seeing that Winterborne was noticing him, he
let his glass drop with a click upon the rail which protected the
hedge, and walked away in the opposite direction. Giles knew in a
moment that this must be Mr. Fitzpiers. When he was gone, Winterborne
pushed through the hollies, and emerged close beside the interesting
object of their contemplation.

CHAPTER IX.

"I heard the bushes move long before I saw you," she began. "I said
first, 'it is some terrible beast;' next, 'it is a poacher;' next, 'it
is