not see him vanish, for fear of bad luck; a
superstition she had not practised since she was a child. When he had
gone, she found herself with a happy impression of him in her mind, an
impression of quiet dignity, and of strength in repose. "A man to be
trusted," she thought; "true and tender, a perfect knight." The flash
of interest or recognition that came into his countenance when he saw
her haunted her; she recalled the colour of his blue eyes, noted the
contrast they were to his dark hair and clear dark skin, and was
pleased. In the afternoon she sat and sewed, and smiled to herself
over her work with an easy mind. Her restlessness had subsided; Dan
scarcely cost her a thought; the tension was released and a reaction
had set in; but, at the time, she herself was quite unaware of it. All
she felt was a good appetite for her tea.

"Minna," she said to the parlour-maid, "bring me a big cup of tea and
a good plate of buttered toast. I'm famishing."

"That's good news, ma'am," Minna answered, for it was long since Beth
had had any appetite at all.

The next day Beth stood at the window again, but without intention.
She was thinking of her knight of the noble mien, however, and at
about the same hour as on the day before, he came again, riding slowly
down the road; and again he looked at Beth with a flash of interest in
his face, to which she involuntarily responded. When he was out of
sight she opened the window, and perceived to her glad surprise that
the air was balmy, and on all things the sun shone, shedding joy.

The horrid spell was broken.

CHAPTER XLVI

"A bowshot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves."

The words made music in Beth's heart as she dressed next morning, and,
instead of the torment of mind from which she had suffered for so
long, there was a great glad glow. Dan went and came as usual, but
neither his presence nor absence disturbed her. She had recovered her
self-possession, her own point of view, and he and his habits resumed
their accustomed place in her estimation. During that dreadful phase
she had seen with Dan's suspicious eyes, and seen evil only, but had
not acquired his interest and pleasure in it; on the contrary, her own
tendency to be grieved by it had been intensified. Now, however, she
had recovered herself, her sense of proportion had been restored, and
she balanced the good against the evil once more, and rejoiced to find
that the weigh