ing
spring-water that constantly trickled in and out of a stone trough. In
such weather as this most of her kitchen-work was done out of doors.

'Eh, dear!' said she, 'the minister and missus is away at Hornby! They
ne'er thought of your coming so betimes! The missus had some errands to
do, and she thought as she'd walk with the minister and be back by
dinner-time.'

'Did not they expect us to dinner?' said I.

'Well, they did, and they did not, as I may say. Missus said to me the
cold lamb would do well enough if you did not come; and if you did I
was to put on a chicken and some bacon to boil; and I'll go do it now,
for it is hard to boil bacon enough.'

'And is Phillis gone, too?' Mr Holdsworth was making friends with Rover.

'No! She's just somewhere about. I reckon you'll find her in the
kitchen-garden, getting peas.

'Let us go there,' said Holsworth, suddenly leaving off his play with
the dog. So I led the way into the kitchen-garden. It was in the first
promise of a summer profuse in vegetables and fruits. Perhaps it was
not so much cared for as other parts of the property; but it was more
attended to than most kitchen-gardens belonging to farm-houses. There
were borders of flowers along each side of the gravel walks; and there
was an old sheltering wail on the north side covered with tolerably
choice fruit-trees; there was a slope down to the fish-pond at the end,
where there were great strawberry-beds; and raspberry-bushes and
rose-bushes grew wherever there was a space; it seemed a chance which
had been planted. Long rows of peas stretched at right angles from the
main walk, and I saw Phillis stooping down among them, before she saw
us. As soon as she heard our cranching steps on the gravel, she stood
up, and shading her eyes from the sun, recognized us. She was quite
still for a moment, and then came slowly towards us, blushing a little
from evident shyness. I had never seen Phillis shy before.

'This is Mr Holdsworth, Phillis,' said I, as soon as I had shaken hands
with her. She glanced up at him, and then looked down, more flushed
than ever at his grand formality of taking his hat off and bowing; such
manners had never been seen at Hope Farm before.

'Father and mother are out. They will be so sorry; you did not write,
Paul, as you said you would.'

'It was my fault,' said Holdsworth, understanding what she meant as
well as if she had put it more fully into words. 'I have not yet given
up all th