water here. It's only a trick, a trick to frighten you--and
I'm beginning to think it has succeeded."

"I shall try here anyway to-morrow," John Martin said grimly. "Let us
go in now."

When Gladys went into the garden on the following morning she beheld
an extraordinary sight. Her father, the gardener, and a man whom she
did not recognize at first, as his back was turned towards her, but
who, to her utter astonishment, proved to be Shiel Davenport, were
hard at work, digging a pit.

Her father paused every now and then, and rested; but he did not allow
the others a moment's respite. Every time they were about to slack, he
urged them on. It was all very well for the gardener who was
accustomed to it, but it was obviously killing work for Shiel
Davenport, and Gladys--as soon as she had overcome a preliminary
outburst of laughter--gave vent to her sympathies.

"What a shame," she exclaimed, "Father how can you? Poor Mr. Davenport
looks ready to drop. Take a rest, Mr. Davenport! Do--you have my
permission."

Looking very hot and exhausted, Shiel Davenport threw down his spade
and attempted to make himself presentable.

"His clothes will be ruined, Father," Gladys said, indignantly.

"They're not his clothes--he's wearing an old suit of mine," John
Martin explained, trying to appear unconcerned.

Shiel forced a laugh. "I'm rather out of form, Miss Martin, I haven't
had much exercise lately."

"You're getting it now anyway," John Martin chuckled.

"And it's blistered your hands horribly!" Gladys cried, pointing to
several raw places. "I will fetch you a pair of father's gloves--he's
a brute!"

"Please don't trouble," Shiel exclaimed, "I'll use my handkerchief
instead. Digging is even harder work than painting--in one way."

"It's not fit work for you," Gladys replied with another reproachful
glance at her father. "When did you arrive, I never heard you?"

"I 'phoned to him last night," John Martin said, looking rather
sheepish. "I thought a day out here would do him good. He thought so
too, and came on by the seven o'clock train. We've been digging ever
since breakfast--but a bit of exercise won't hurt him, and I'll give
him plenty of vaseline presently."

They resumed work again; and Gladys retired indoors. At eleven o'clock
John Martin let Shiel go. "You can amuse yourself till luncheon with
books and papers," he said, "you'll find plenty of them in my study.
I'll join you later."

But Shiel had other