yard or two off and looked at them with sternly
controlled rage.

"It's obvious that I passed you just now," he said.

"You did; I ought to have stopped you," Kit agreed. "For a moment, it did
not strike me that you were looking for Miss Osborn."

Osborn glanced at the hollow in the hedge. "It's curious you stopped at a
spot where there was not much chance of your being seen."

Grace turned, as if she meant to speak, but Kit resumed: "After all, I
don't know that you are entitled to question what I do on a public road."

"Certainly not," said Osborn, with forced quietness. "I have, however, a
right to question my daughter's choice of her acquaintances, and it looks
as if I had some grounds for using my authority." He paused and turned to
Grace. "Your mother is waiting for you. You had better go home."

Grace hesitated, glancing at Kit. It was her fault that they had hidden
and she would have waited had she thought he wanted her. Kit's face,
however, was hard and inscrutable, and with something of an effort she
went away. It was a relief to Kit that she had gone; he had meant to
keep her out of the quarrel and now he was ready to talk to Osborn.

"The matter doesn't end here," the latter remarked. "There's something to
be said that your father ought to know. I am going to Ashness and expect
you to come with me."

"You must wait. I have some sheep at the beckfoot and it will take me
half an hour to drive them home," Kit said coolly.

Osborn looked at him with savage surprise. It was unthinkable that he
should be forced to wait while the fellow went for his sheep, but he saw
that Kit was not to be moved and tried to control his anger.

"Very well. I will meet you at Ashness in half an hour."

Kit braced himself as he went up the road. In a sense, he was not afraid
of Osborn, but he had now to meet a crisis that he ought to have seen
must come. In fact, he had seen it, and had, rather weakly, tried to
cheat himself and put things off. He loved Grace, and Osborn would never
approve. Kit knew Osborn's pride and admitted that his anger was,
perhaps, not altogether unwarranted. For that matter, he doubted if Grace
knew how far his rash hopes had led him. Then he thrilled as he
remembered that when she pushed him back to the hedge, and afterwards
when they left their hiding place, something had hinted that she did know
and acknowledge him her lover.

In the meantime, it was a relief to drive the sheep down the dale;