ant to talk about them, only about you and me."

"If you don't like the way I talk, I'll keep still," Judith said, in a
severe but small voice, but a small hand groping for his softened the
threat, and a soft, sudden laugh as his arm slipped round her atoned for
it entirely. Then there was silence on the steps, a long, whispering,
wonderful silence. Long before Judith spoke again all the work of the
lonely months was undone. And the low whispers that the two exchanged
conveyed no further information about Colonel Everard.

But there was no more to tell. The master of Green River was master no
longer and the end of all the intricate planning and scheming that had
made and kept him master was a story that Judith could tell in a few
careless sentences and forget. If she had seen and guessed some things
that she could not forget, in the strange little circle that had found a
place for her, she would never see them again. That order was gone from
the town forever, with the man who had created it, and beside her on the
steps was the boy who could make her forget it, and see beyond the long,
hard years between. And, as she almost could guess, in these magic
minutes when she could dream and dream true, that boy was the future
master of Green River.

Judith sighed, and stirred in his arms.

"Are you happier now?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"But you're going to be great. You are, really."

"I am if you want me to. Judith, how long does your father think you and
I ought to wait?"

"I don't know. You can ask him. He likes you better than me. He always
wanted me to be a boy.... Neil, I want to tell you something. Keep your
arm like that, but don't look at me."

"Why?"

"It's about what you don't like me to talk about."

"Everard?"

"Yes, and it's about something dreadful, that day in his library when I
was alone with him, and you came. He--frightened me."

"Never mind, dear, now."

"He frightened me but that was--all. I wasn't hurt or anything. I just
didn't know he--anybody--could look the way he was looking, or act the
way he was acting, and then I felt sick all over. I was afraid. But he
was just trying to kiss me, of course, and I wasn't going to let him,
the horrid old man. So I think now it was silly to be frightened. Was
it?"

"No, it wasn't silly, dear."

"I'm glad. And Neil--I want to tell you something else. It's about--that
night--in the buggy, on the old road to Wells, you know, when you were
going to