issing her hand at
the door. "Till our next meeting!"

It was only a few steps back from the turn into the High Street. Peggy's
pulse began to beat more naturally; in a moment, now, they would be
back, safe back, and she would never do it again, no matter what Grace
thought of her. Fun was fun, but it was not worth this; and what would
Margaret say?

Coming up from the High Street, they skirted a field that lay like
waving silver in the moonlight. Nothing would do but that Grace must
have a run through this field; she declared that it was her favourite
spot in the world.

"After all, soda and marshmallows are carnal!" she insisted. "Our bodies
are fed, Innocent, our souls starve for want of poetry. There is poetry
in all that silver waving. I must! I must prance, or I shall not rest in
my bed. Come along!"

And she went flitting about through the long grass, hither and thither
like a will-o'-the-wisp, her long hair floating around her, her arms
waving in gestures sometimes fantastic, but always graceful. Peggy could
think of nothing but her cousin Rita, as she used to dance in the old
days at Fernley. What a pair she and Grace would make! What a mercy they
had never come together. Moreover, her heart, the heart of a farmer's
daughter, smote her at the treading down of the grass. She stood at the
edge of the field, now and then calling to her companion and urging her
to come home, but for the most part simply watching her in mingled
terror and admiration.

At length the wild spirit was satisfied, and Grace came flying back,
radiant and breathless.

"That was glorious!" she said. "Poor little Innocent, you haven't much
soul, have you? Still, I love you. Come, we will go back to the
shades."

They neared the gate; as they did so, they heard voices and the sound of
approaching footsteps. Grace paused for a moment; then held up her hand
with a warning gesture. Peggy felt her heart turn cold; it was coming!
one of the voices was that of Miss Russell. It was impossible for them
to escape being seen. The broad stretch of the lawn lay between them and
safety, and the relentless moonlight lay full upon the hedge which had
lain in shadow when they came out. Peggy braced herself to meet the
shock; but Grace laid a hand on her arm, and then made a gesture. A
great tree stood just by the gate of Pentland School; a chestnut-tree,
with low-jutting, wide-spreading branches. With the swift movement of
some woodland creature, Gr