. Lizzie, don't be frightened"--bending his
head--"Lizzie, put your arms round my neck and kiss me--now. Do as I
tell you, Lizzie--they cannot see us," and he drew her behind a bush.
"Now, Lizzie."

She obeyed just as a frightened child might.

"We must go now," she panted, breathless from such an embrace.

"Lizzie, you will come for a walk with me after tea?"

"I don't know--I can't promise. I don't think it would be right. Aunt
mightn't like me to."

"Never mind aunt. I'll fix her. We'll go for a walk over to the
school-teacher's place. It will be bright moonlight."

"I don't like to promise. My father and mother might not--"

"Why, what are you frightened of? What harm is there in it?" Then,
softly, "Promise, Lizzie."

"Promise, Lizzie."

She was hesitating.

"Promise, Lizzie. I'm going away to-morrow--might never see you again.
You will come, Lizzie? It will be our last talk together. Promise,
Lizzie.... Oh, then, if you don't like to, I won't press you.... Will you
come, or no?"

"Ye-es."

"One more, and I'll take you home."

It was nearly dark.

Brook was moved to get up early next morning and give the girl a hand
with the cows. There were two rickety bails in the yard. He had not
forgotten how to milk, but the occupation gave him no pleasure--it
brought the past near again.

Now and then he would turn his face, rest his head against the side
of the cow, and watch Lizzie at her work; and each time she would, as
though in obedience to an influence she could not resist, turn her face
to him--having noted the pause in his milking. There was a wonder in her
expression--as if something had come into her life which she could not
realize--curiosity in his.

When the spare pail was full, he would follow her with it to the little
bark dairy; and she held out the cloth which served as a strainer whilst
he poured the milk in, and, as the last drops went through, their mouths
would come together.

He carried the slop-buckets to the pigsty for her, and helped to poddy
(hand feed) a young calf. He had to grip the calf by the nape of the
neck, insert a forefinger in its mouth, and force its nose down into an
oil-drum full of skim milk. The calf sucked, thinking it had a teat; and
so it was taught to drink. But calves have a habit, born of instinct, of
butting the udders with their noses, by way of reminding their mothers
to let down the milk; and so this calf butted at times, splashing sour
milk over B