be what I want her to be. She understands that. There is to be no
quarrel between us."

"But she would be heartless if she were to encourage you to be with
her simply for the assistance you may give her, knowing at the same
time that you could not be happy in her presence."

"She is not heartless."

"Then she must suppose that you are."

"I dare say she doesn't think that I care much about it. When I told
her, I did it all of a heap, you see; and I fancy she thought I was
just mad at the time."

"And did you speak about it again?"

"No; not a word. I shouldn't wonder if she hadn't forgotten it before
I went away."

"That would be impossible."

"You wouldn't say so if you knew how it was done. It was all over in
half an hour; and she had given me such an answer that I thought I
had no right to say anything more about it. The morning when I left
her she did seem to be kinder."

"I wish I knew whether she cares for any one else."

"Ah! I so often think of that. But I couldn't ask her, you know. I
had no right to pry into her secrets. When I came away, she got up to
see me off; and I almost felt tempted to carry her into the gig and
drive her off."

"I don't think that would have done, Will."

"I don't suppose anything will do. We all know what happens to the
child who cries for the top brick of the chimney. The child has to
do without it. The child goes to bed and forgets it; but I go to
bed,--and can't forget it."

"My poor Will!"

Then he got up and shook himself, and stalked about the
garden,--always keeping within a few yards of his sister's
chair,--and carried on a strong battle within his breast, struggling
to get the better of the weakness which his love produced, though
resolved that the love itself should be maintained.

"I wish it wasn't Sunday," he said at last, "because then I could go
and do something. If I thought that no one would see me, I'd fill a
dung-cart or two, even though it is Sunday. I'll tell you what;--I'll
go and take a walk as far as Denvir Sluice; and I'll be back to tea.
You won't mind?"

"Denvir Sluice is eight miles off."

"Exactly,--I'll be there and back in something over three hours."

"But, Will,--there's a broiling sun."

"It will do me good. Anything that will take something out of me is
what I want. I know I ought to stay and read to you; but I couldn't
do it. I've got the fidgets inside, if you know what that means. To
have the big hay-rick on fire, or som