"I can't tell you entirely.
You must let me think. For one thing, I want more freedom of action than
I should have as an inmate of your house. I want to come and go as I
like. I've never really done that before, and I'm just beginning to
enjoy it."

"That's a selfish reason," said the squire, with a sudden boyish
grin at her.

She coloured slightly. "No, it isn't--or not wholly."

"All right, it isn't. I unsay it. But that reason won't exist as far as
you are concerned. You will come and go exactly as you like always. No
one will question you."

"You're very kind," said Juliet.

He bowed to her ceremoniously. "That's the first really nice thing you
have said to me. I must make a note of it. Now would you like my wife to
call upon you? If so, I'll send her round to-morrow at twelve."

"If she would care to come," said Juliet.

"Of course she would. She shall come then--and you'll talk things over,
and come to an understanding. That's settled, is it? Good-bye!"

He turned to go, pausing at the gate to throw her another smiling
farewell. She had not thought that gloomy, black browed countenance could
look so genial. There was something curiously elusive, almost haunting,
about his smile.

"Columbus!" said Juliet. "I'm not sure that he's a very nice man, but
there's something about him--something I can't quite place--that makes me
wonder if I've met him somewhere before. Would you like to go and live at
the Court, Columbus?"

Columbus leaned against her knee in sentimental silence. He evidently did
not care where he went so long as he was with the object of his
whole-souled devotion.

She stooped and kissed him between the eyes. "Dear doggie!" she murmured.
"I wonder--are we happier--here?"

CHAPTER VIII

MRS. FIELDING

When the great high-powered car from Shale Court stopped at the gate of
the blacksmith's cottage on the following morning Mrs. Rickett, who was
feeding her young chicks in the yard outside the forge, was thrown into a
state of wild agitation. Everyone in Little Shale stood in awe of the
squire's wife.

She went nervously to enquire what was wanted, and met the chauffeur
at the gate.

"It's all right, Mrs. Rickett. Don't fluster yourself!" he said. "It's
Miss Moore we're after. Go and tell her, will you?"

Mrs. Rickett looked at the bold-eyed young man with disfavour.
"Well, you're not expecting her to come out to you, are you?" she
retorted tartly.

He smiled. "Yes, I rather