be practical and his caution vanished,
leaving him romantic and imaginative.

He went on, and as he reached the first of the white houses a girl came
out of a gate and stopped where the moonlight fell across the road. She
had some beauty and her pose was graceful.

"Oh," she exclaimed, with rather exaggerated surprise, "it's Kit! I
suppose you'll take this letter? I was going to the post."

Kit did not know much about young women, but hesitated, because he
doubted if she wanted him to post the letter.

"If you like," he said. "I expect the causeway at the water-splash
will be wet."

She gave him a curious smile. "Oh, well; here's the letter. Jim Nixon had
to help me across the water when I went last night, and I don't suppose
you're afraid of wetting your feet. You are used to it at Ashness."

"Yes," said Kit. "My boots are stronger than yours."

"Canny lad!" she answered, with a mocking laugh. Kit felt
embarrassed, for he thought he saw what she meant. Janet Bell was
something of a coquette.

"I heard people coming down the road not long since," she resumed. "Have
you had a supper party? Tell your father I think he's shabby because he
left me out."

"It wasn't a supper party and there were no women. Three or four
neighbors came in."

"To grumble about the weather or argue about the sheep?"

"They did grumble about the weather," Kit replied.

Janet looked amused. "You're very cautious, my lad; but you needn't take
it for granted I'm always on father's side. Do you think I don't know why
your neighbors came?"

"You don't know altogether."

The moonlight was clear enough to show that Janet colored. "And you think
I stopped you to find out?"

"I don't," said Kit, rather awkwardly. "Still, perhaps it's better that
you shouldn't know."

"Oh," said she, with some emotion, "I can't tell if you mean to be nice
or not. It's the lazy, feckless people who dislike father, because
they're jealous; and they try to make things hard for me. Why should I
suffer because he's cleverer than them?"

"You oughn't to suffer. I really don't think people blame you."

"They do blame me," Janet insisted. "You doubted if you could trust me
just now."

This was true enough to embarrass Kit, but he said, "I didn't see why I
should talk to you about our business; that was all. In fact, I don't
mean to talk about it to anybody."

"Now you're nicer. I didn't like to feel you were taking particular
care not to let me know. We