ve always found their arms nerved to resist
multitudes--hundreds have conquered tens of thousands. So is it with our
warfare. We have strength given us that makes the single champion of the
cross, powerful against the legion of his adversaries.'

'Very well said, nephew,' broke in the vicar, 'Marathon, Thermopylae,
Platea--'

'I am afraid we are keeping you from your dinner, Mrs Prothero,'
interrupted Mr Gwynne, who had a nervous dread of the vicar's
antiquities, whether in war or peace. 'Freda, I think we must go.'

Freda rose from her seat, and shook hands very warmly with Mr and Mrs
Prothero. She had made up her mind to do the same with Rowland; but just
as she approached the door near which he had been standing, he said he
would go out and see whether the carriages were ready, and did so
accordingly. They followed him as soon as the leave-takings were over,
and found him waiting at the gate. He immediately assisted Lady Mary and
Miss Nugent into their carriage, leaving Colonel Vaughan to perform the
same office for Miss Gwynne and Miss Hall. Mr Gwynne stayed to shake
hands with him, and tell him that he should always be glad to see him;
and Colonel Vaughan promised to pay him a visit as soon as he went to
town. The former got into the carriage, the latter upon the box to
drive. Rowland stood by the door a moment irresolute.

'Good-bye, Mr Rowland,' said Miss Hall, 'I shall hope often to see your
mother.'

'Thank you, Miss Hall,' said Rowland, pressing the hand she held out to
him with an iron pressure.

Freda was just going to put out her hand across Miss Hall, when Colonel
Vaughan touched the horses, and the carriage drove off. Rowland raised
his hat, and as he glanced at Freda saw that she was looking at him not
altogether unkindly. After those words of hers, he never could have
shaken hands with her, unless she made the advance; and so they parted,
he believing her too proud to acknowledge him after what he had said to
her; she admiring what she considered his pride and resentment a great
deal more than she had ever done his humility.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LOVER.

Spring came round again, and Owen and Gladys were still at the farm. The
following conversation will show how they went on together.

'Let me carry that bucket for you, Gladys,' said Owen, one evening when
she was proceeding across the farm-yard, to carry a warm mesh to a sick
cow.

'It is not heavy, sir,' said Gladys, gently.