at it was the honesty of her nature, her
beautiful thoroughness; and then he thought little more about her. But
now he dropped into quiet, natural talk with her, as if they had known
each other for years. But most women found that they dropped quickly
into easy talk with him. That was because he had not learned the
small gossip which varies little with a thousand people in the same
circumstances. But he had a naive fresh sense, everything interested
him, and he said what he thought with taste and tact, sometimes with
wit, and always in that cheerful contemplative mood which influences
women. Some of his sayings were so startling and heretical that they had
gone the rounds, and certain crisp words out of the argot of the North
were used by women who wished to be chic and amusing.

Not quite certain why he stayed, but talking on reflectively, Gaston at
last said:

"You will be coming to us to-night, of course? We are having a barbecue
of some kind."

"Yes, I hope so; though my grandfather does not much care to have me
go."

"I suppose it is dull for him."

"I am not sure it is that."

"No? What then?"

She shook her head.

"The affair is in your honour, Mr. Belward, isn't it?

"Does that answer my question?" he asked genially.

She blushed.

"No, no, no! That is not what I meant."

"I was unfair. Yes, I believe the matter does take that colour; though
why, I don't know."

She looked at him with simple earnestness.

"You ought to be proud of it; and you ought to be glad of such a high
position where you can do so much good, if you will."

He smiled, and ran his hand down his horse's leg musingly before he
replied:

"I've not thought much of doing good, I tell you frankly. I wasn't
brought up to think about it; I don't know that I ever did any good in
my life. I supposed it was only missionaries and women who did that sort
of thing."

"But you wrong yourself. You have done good in this village. Why, we all
have talked of it; and though it wasn't done in the usual way--rather
irregularly--still it was doing good."

He looked down at her astonished.

"Well, here's a pretty libel! Doing good 'irregularly'? Why, where have
I done good at all?"

She ran over the names of several sick people in the village whose bills
he had paid, the personal help and interest he had given to many, and,
last of all, she mentioned the case of the village postmaster.

Since Gaston had come, postmasters had been change