s me all night and all
day--if on'y you make me forget."

Her hat had tumbled off in the struggle, a mesh of brown hair was
dangling over her shoulder, and she was still too much out of breath
to speak. The wagon rolled heavily forward along the flat road, and
the carter cracked his whip continuously to tell the horses they were
nearly home. Presently Mavis got up, perched herself beside her
husband, and whispered to him jerkily.

"You've nothing to forget, dear. No looking back. But, oh, my darling,
I'm going to be more than I ever was to you. I feel it. I _know_
it--an' we'll be happy, happy, happy, so long as we live."

She pressed her face against the sleeve of his jacket, and stroked his
knee with as much luxurious pleasure as if the rough cord breeches had
been made of the softest satin velvet.

"See. Look straight ahead," and she raised her hand and pointed.

Vine-Pits Farm was in sight. The stone house, the barns, the straw
ricks, and the fruit trees all seeming to have clustered close
together, to form a compact little kingdom of hope and joy.

"Look, dear. How pretty--see the sunlight on the roofs and on the
ricks. That's luck. All the straw is changing into gold. My old Will
is going to make heaps of golden sovereigns as big as any rick."

"Woo then. A-oo then." The carter stopped the horses outside the
garden entrance. "Will the missis get down here at th' front door, or
be us to go on into yaard?"

Mrs. Dale got down here, took the cat-basket from her husband, and
went gaily up the path to the open front door.

"Don't let th' cat loose," Dale called after her warningly, "or she'll
be back to Rodchurch like a streak o' greased lightning. She'll need
acclim'tyzing all to-morrow."

Mavis ran through the house to the kitchen, where Mary and a
courtesying old woman received her. Then she scampered from room to
room, uttering little cries of contentment. Often as she had seen and
admired the house during the last few weeks, it had never seemed so
perfectly delightful as it did to-day: with its low-ceiled cozy little
rooms at the back, its high and imposing rooms in front, its broad
staircase and square landing, it would be quite a little palace when
all had been set to rights.

Coming hurrying back to the hall, she saw her husband in the porch, a
splendid dark figure with the last rays of yellow sunlight behind him.
He paused bare-headed on the threshold, obviously not aware of her
presence, and she