rve their
passing.

"That was Giles," said Melbury, when they had gone by.

"Was it? Poor Giles," said she.

"All that blooth means heavy autumn work for him and his hands. If no
blight happens before the setting the apple yield will be such as we
have not had for years."

Meanwhile, in the wood they had come from, the men had sat on so long
that they were indisposed to begin work again that evening; they were
paid by the ton, and their time for labor was as they chose. They
placed the last gatherings of bark in rows for the curers, which led
them farther and farther away from the shed; and thus they gradually
withdrew as the sun went down.

Fitzpiers lingered yet. He had opened his book again, though he could
hardly see a word in it, and sat before the dying fire, scarcely
knowing of the men's departure. He dreamed and mused till his
consciousness seemed to occupy the whole space of the woodland around,
so little was there of jarring sight or sound to hinder perfect unity
with the sentiment of the place. The idea returned upon him of
sacrificing all practical aims to live in calm contentment here, and
instead of going on elaborating new conceptions with infinite pains, to
accept quiet domesticity according to oldest and homeliest notions.
These reflections detained him till the wood was embrowned with the
coming night, and the shy little bird of this dusky time had begun to
pour out all the intensity of his eloquence from a bush not very far
off.

Fitzpiers's eyes commanded as much of the ground in front as was open.
Entering upon this he saw a figure, whose direction of movement was
towards the spot where he sat. The surgeon was quite shrouded from
observation by the recessed shadow of the hut, and there was no reason
why he should move till the stranger had passed by. The shape resolved
itself into a woman's; she was looking on the ground, and walking
slowly as if searching for something that had been lost, her course
being precisely that of Mr. Melbury's gig. Fitzpiers by a sort of
divination jumped to the idea that the figure was Grace's; her nearer
approach made the guess a certainty.

Yes, she was looking for something; and she came round by the prostrate
trees that would have been invisible but for the white nakedness which
enabled her to avoid them easily. Thus she approached the heap of
ashes, and acting upon what was suggested by a still shining ember or
two, she took a stick and stirred the