ated, only a
moment, it is true, for, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes that
always made her vaguely rebellious,--with a quick, light movement, she
mounted the stile, and there paused to shake her head in laughing
disdain of his out-stretched hand; then--there was the sound of rending
cambric, she tripped, and, next moment, he had caught her in his arms.
It was for but a very brief instant that she lay, soft and yielding, in
his embrace, yet she was conscious of how strong were the arms that held
her so easily, ere they set her down.

"I beg your pardon!--how awkward I am!" she exclaimed, in hot
mortification.

"No," said Bellew, shaking his head, "it was a nail, you know, a bent,
and rusty nail,--here, under the top bar. Is your dress much torn?"

"Oh, that is nothing, thank you!"

So they went on again, but now they were silent once more, and very
naturally, for Anthea was mightily angry,--with herself, the stile,
Bellew, and everything concerned; while he was thinking of the sudden,
warm clasp of her arms, of the alluring fragrance of her hair, and of
the shy droop of her lashes as she lay in his embrace. Therefore, as he
walked on beside her, saying nothing, within his secret soul he poured
benedictions upon the head of that bent, and rusty nail.

And presently, having turned down a grassy lane and crossed a small but
very noisy brook that chattered impertinences among the stones and
chuckled at them slyly from the shadows, they eventually came upon a
small, and very lonely little cottage bowered in roses and
honeysuckle,--as are all the cottages hereabouts. But now Anthea paused,
looking at Bellew with a dubious brow.

"I ought to warn you that Mrs. Dibbin is very old, and sometimes a
little queer, and sometimes says very--surprising things."

"Excellent!" nodded Bellew, holding the little gate open for her, "very
right and proper conduct in a witch, and I love surprises above
all things."

But Anthea still hesitated, while Bellew stood with his hand upon the
gate, waiting for her to enter. Now he had left his hat behind him, and,
as the moon shone down on his bare head, she could not but notice how
bright, and yellow was his hair, despite the thick, black brows below.

"I think I--would rather you waited outside,--if you don't mind, Mr.
Bellew."

"You mean that I am to be denied the joy of conversing with a real,
live, old witch, and having my fortune told?" he sighed. "Well, if such
is your will-