ecret, when there was no kill. It was not this idiosyncrasy that
troubled Boase; it was the social questions that hunting evoked. Boase,
who also followed to hounds, felt his heart glow to see how well the boy
was received; for Ishmael's surly shyness had passed into a new phase,
expressed by a rather charming deference mingled with independence which
appealed to the brusque, goodhearted members of the "county," who went
to make up the very mixed hunt in that sparsely-peopled district.

Still, all was not well. Vassie had grown in discontent, Annie in
melancholy. The girl herself might--probably would, with her beauty and
adaptability--have won a place with Ishmael had it not been for the
mother. Annie's touchy pride, mingled with what Vassie frankly called
her "impossibleness," made the situation hopeless, for the former
quality would not let her efface herself, and the latter prevented her
daughter being called upon. Therefore, although Ishmael went out now
and again and had struck up a fairly intimate acquaintance with one or
two nice families within a radius of ten miles, yet he had no sort of
home life which could satisfy him for long.

The only thing Boase saw to be thankful for was that Ishmael's thoughts
had not been driven on to Phoebe, and that was probably only because
it had never occurred to Ishmael as a possible contingency. He had been
so healthily occupied and was so used to Phoebe. Also, Vassie, in her
discontent, spent the time visiting her rather second-class friends in
Plymouth as much as possible, and, even when she did not insist on
sweeping Phoebe with her, intercourse with the mill stopped almost
entirely. Annie never pretended to any liking for the helpless Phoebe,
who could not even answer her back when she insulted her, as she
frequently did all timid people. Never since that accidental touch of
quaintness on the first evening had Ishmael discovered any kindred habit
of mind in Phoebe, and she, in her sweetly-obtuse way, sometimes
wondered that Ishmael did not want to be more with her.

It was not a common failing with the chaps around that district.
Phoebe's peculiar allure of utter softness was not one that could
remain unfelt even among the slow and primitive young men she met day by
day, or who gazed at her dewy mouth and eyes in the church which, for
the sake of the vision, they attended instead of chapel. Vassie, who was
really a beauty, they only feared. At any moment, if he were not d