etting worse, and sitting down on a slab of
the slate stile, she glanced at her companion.

"I imagine it needed some pluck to stop the hunt," she said. "For one
thing, you were alone; nobody agreed with you."

Askew smiled. "Opposition sometimes makes one obstinate. But do you think
it's hard to stand alone?"

"Yes," said Grace, impulsively. "I know it's hard. Yet, of course, if you
feel you are taking the proper line, you oughtn't to be daunted by what
others think."

She stopped, remembering that the man was a stranger; and then resumed in
a different tone, "But why did you really stop the hunt? Are you one of
the people who don't believe in sport?"

"No," said Askew good humoredly. "It's curious that Mr. Thorn hinted
something like that. Anyhow, I'm not a champion of the otter's right to
destroy useful fish. I think they ought to be shot."

"Oh!" said Grace with a touch of indignation; "you would shoot an otter?
Well, I suppose they must be killed; but to use a gun!"

"It's better for the otter. Which do you imagine it would choose--a
mercifully sudden end, or two or three hours of agony, with men and dogs
close behind, until the half-drowned, exhausted animal is torn to pieces
or mangled by the poles?"

"I suppose one must answer as you expect."

"You're honest," Askew remarked. "I imagine it cost you something
to agree!"

"It did," Grace admitted. "After all, you know our traditions, and many
people, not cruel people, like the sport."

"That is so; but let's take the hunt to-day, for an example. There were
three or four men without an occupation, and no doubt they find following
the hounds healthy exercise. The others had left work that ought to be
done; in fact, if you think, you'll own that some were men we have not
much use for in the dale."

"Yes," said Grace, with some reluctance; "I know the men you mean. All
the same, it is really not our business to decide if they ought to
work or hunt."

Askew looked amused and she liked his twinkle. He was obviously
intelligent, and on the whole she approved his unconventional point of
view. Conventional insincerities were the rule at Tarnside. Besides,
although it was possible she ought not to talk to the man with such
freedom, her foot hurt and the stile made a comfortable seat. She liked
to watch the shadows quiver on the stream and hear the current brawl
among the stones. This was an excuse for stopping, since she would not
acknowledge that the young