her more prominent than usual.

"So that was why you were feeling gloomy, was it, Adam?"

"Ah! an' enough to make any man feel gloomy, I should think. Miss
Anthea's brave enough, but I reckon 'twill come nigh breakin' 'er 'eart
to see the old stuff sold, the furnitur' an' that,--so she's goin' to
drive over to Cranbrook to be out o' the way while it's a-doin'."

"And when does the sale take place?"

"The Saturday arter next, sir, as ever was," Adam answered.
"But--hush,--mum's the word, sir!" he broke off, and winking violently
with a side-ways motion of the head, he took up his pitch-fork.
Wherefore, glancing round, Bellew saw Anthea coming towards them, fresh
and sweet as the morning. Her hands were full of flowers, and she
carried her sun-bonnet upon her arm. Here and there a rebellious curl
had escaped from its fastenings as though desirous (and very naturally)
of kissing the soft oval of her cheek, or the white curve of her neck.
And among them Bellew noticed one in particular,--a roguish curl that
glowed in the sun with a coppery light, and peeped at him wantonly
above her ear.

"Good morning!" said he, rising and, to all appearance, addressing the
curl in question, "you are early abroad this morning!"

"Early, Mr. Bellew!--why I've been up hours. I'm generally out at four
o'clock on market days; we work hard, and long, at Dapplemere," she
answered, giving him her hand with her grave, sweet smile.

"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, "but farmin' ain't what it was in my young
days!"

"But I think we shall do well with the hops, Adam."

"'Ops, Miss Anthea,--lord love you!--there ain't no 'ops nowhere so good
as ourn be!"

"They ought to be ready for picking, soon,--do you think sixty people
will be enough?"

"Ah!--they'll be more'n enough, Miss Anthea."

"And, Adam--the five-acre field should be mowed today."

"I'll set the men at it right arter breakfast,--I'll 'ave it done, trust
me, Miss Anthea."

"I do, Adam,--you know that!" And with a smiling nod she turned away.
Now, as Bellew walked on beside her, he felt a strange constraint upon
him such as he had never experienced towards any woman before, and the
which he was at great pains with himself to account for. Indeed so rapt
was he, that he started suddenly to find that she was asking him
a question:

"Do you--like Dapplemere, Mr. Bellew?"

"Like it!" he repeated, "like it? Yes indeed!"

"I'm so glad!" she answered, her eyes glowing with pleasur