ithin range of
criticism were two very different people. Sammy adored at a distance
was all-ready response to Beth's fine flights of imagination; but
Sammy on the spot was dull. He was seldom on the spot, however, so
that Beth had ample leisure to live on her love undisturbed, and her
mind became extraordinarily active. Verse came to her like a
recollection. On half-holidays they sometimes went for a walk together
over the wild wide waste of sand when the tide was out, and she would
rhyme to herself the whole time; but she seldom said anything to
Sammy. So long as he was silent he was a source of inspiration--that
is to say, her feeling for him was inspiring; but when she tried to
get anything out of him, they generally squabbled.

Beth lived her own life at this time almost entirely. Since that
startling threat of rebellion, her mother had been afraid to beat her
lest she should strike back; scolding only made her voluble, and Mrs.
Caldwell never thought of trying to manage her in the only way
possible, by reasoning with her and appealing to her better nature.
There was, therefore, but one thing for her mother to do in order to
preserve her own dignity, and that was to ignore Beth. Accordingly,
when the perfunctory lessons were over in the morning, Beth had her
day to herself. She began it generally by practising for at least an
hour by the church-clock, and after that she had a variety of pursuits
which she preferred to follow alone if Sammy were at school, because
then there was no one to interrupt her thoughts. When the larder was
empty, she became Loyal Heart the Trapper, and would wander off to
Fairholm to set snares or catapult anything she could get near. The
gun she had found impracticable, because she was certain to have been
seen out with it; her snares, if they were found, were supposed to
have been set by poachers. She herself was known to every one on the
estate, and was therefore sure of respect, no matter who saw her; even
Uncle James himself would have let her alone had they met, as he was
of her mother's opinion, that it was safer to ignore her than to
attempt to control her. The snares, although of the most primitive
kind, answered the purpose. The great difficulty was how to get the
game home; but that she also managed successfully, generally by
returning after dark. Her mother, concluding that she owed whatever
came to Aunt Grace Mary's surreptitious kindness, said nothing on the
subject except to