sionate tone. 'I telled him not.'

But at that moment the heavy outer door was opened by Daniel Robson
himself--bright, broad, and rosy, a jolly impersonation of Winter.
His large drover's coat was covered with snow-flakes, and through
the black frame of the doorway might be seen a white waste world of
sweeping fell and field, with the dark air filled with the pure
down-fall. Robson stamped his snow-laden feet and shook himself
well, still standing on the mat, and letting a cold frosty current
of fresh air into the great warm kitchen. He laughed at them all
before he spoke.

'It's a coud new year as I'm lettin' in though it's noan t' new year
yet. Yo'll a' be snowed up, as sure as my name s Dannel, if yo' stop
for twel' o'clock. Yo'd better mak' haste and go whoam. Why,
Charley, my lad! how beest ta? who'd ha' thought o' seeing thee i'
these parts again! Nay, missus, nay, t' new year mun find its way
int' t' house by itsel' for me; for a ha' promised my oud woman to
bring Sylvie whoam as quick as may-be; she's lyin' awake and
frettin' about t' snow and what not. Thank yo' kindly, missus, but
a'll tak' nought to eat; just a drop o' somethin' hot to keep out
coud, and wish yo' a' the compliments o' the season. Philip, my man,
yo'll not be sorry to be spared t' walk round by Haytersbank such a
neet. My missus were i' such a way about Sylvie that a thought a'd
just step off mysel', and have a peep at yo' a', and bring her some
wraps. Yo'r sheep will be a' folded, a reckon, Measter Pratt, for
there'll niver be a nibble o' grass to be seen this two month,
accordin' to my readin'; and a've been at sea long enough, and on
land long enough t' know signs and wonders. It's good stuff that,
any way, and worth comin' for,' after he had gulped down a
tumblerful of half-and-half grog. 'Kinraid, if ta doesn't come and
see me afore thou'rt many days ouder, thee and me'll have words.
Come, Sylvie, what art ta about, keepin' me here? Here's Mistress
Corney mixin' me another jorum. Well, this time a'll give "T'
married happy, and t' single wed!"'

Sylvia was all this while standing by her father quite ready for
departure, and not a little relieved by his appearance as her convoy
home.

'I'm ready to see Haytersbank to-night, master!' said Kinraid, with
easy freedom--a freedom which Philip envied, but could not have
imitated, although he was deeply disappointed at the loss of his
walk with Sylvia, when he had intended to exercise the