s thinking that by now, Mr. Cassilis
had read her letter,--that he might, even then, be on his way to
Dapplemere. She even fancied, once or twice, that she could hear the
gallop of his horse's hoofs. And, when he came, he would want
to--kiss her!

"Why do you shiver so, Auntie Anthea, are you cold?"

"No, dear."

"Well, then, why are you so quiet to me,--I've asked you a
question--three times."

"Have you dear? I--I was thinking; what was the question?"

"I was asking you if you would be awful frightened s'posing we did find
a pixie--or a gnome, in the shadows; an' would you be so very awfully
frightened if a gnome--a great, big one, you know,--came jumping out
an'--ran off with you,--should you?"

"No!" said Anthea, with another shiver, "No, dear,--I think I should
be--rather glad of it!"

"Should you, Auntie? I'm--so awful glad you wouldn't be frightened. A
course, I don't s'pose there are gnomes--I mean great, big
ones,--really, you know,--but there might be, on a magnif'cent night,
like this. If you shiver again Auntie you'll have to take my coat!"

"I thought I heard a horse galloping--hush!"

They had reached the stile, by now, the stile with the crooked, lurking
nail, and she leaned there, a while, to listen. "I'm sure I heard
something,--away there--on the road!"

"I don't!" said Small Porges, stoutly,--"so take my hand, please, an'
let me 'sist you over the stile."

So they crossed the stile, and, presently, came to the brook that was
the most impertinent brook in the world. And here, upon the little
rustic bridge, they stopped to look down at the sparkle of the water,
and to listen to its merry voice.

Yes, indeed to-night it was as impertinent as ever, laughing, and
chuckling to itself among the hollows, and whispering scandalously in
the shadows. It seemed to Anthea that it was laughing at her,--mocking,
and taunting her with--the future. And now, amid the laughter, were
sobs, and tearful murmurs, and now, again, it seemed to be the prophetic
voice of old Nannie:

"'By force ye shall be wooed and by force ye shall be wed, and there is
no man strong enough to do it, but him as bears the Tiger Mark
upon him!'"

The "Tiger Mark!" Alas! how very far from the truth were poor, old
Nannie's dreams, after all, the dreams which Anthea had very nearly
believed in--once or twice. How foolish it had all been! And yet
even now--

Anthea had been leaning over the gurgling waters while all this passed