lk from off his fingers; who beneficently contrived that hardly
a load of hay was driven to the great rick without Coppertop's small
person perched proudly aloft thereon, his slim legs dangling and his
shrill voice joining with that of the carter in an encouraging "Come-up,
Blossom," to the bay mare as she plodded forward between the shafts.

Gillian experienced no anxiety with regard to Coppertop's safety
while he was in Ned Honeycott's charge, but she missed the childish
companionship, the more so as she found herself frequently alone these
days. June Storran was naturally occupied about her house and dairy,
while Magda, under Dan Storran's tutelage, appeared smitten with an
extraordinary interest in farm management.

It seemed to Gillian that Magda and Dan were in each other's company the
greater part of the time. Every day Dan had some suggestion or other to
make for Miss Vallincourt's amusement. Either it was: "Would you care to
see the hay-loader at work?" Or: "I've just bought a couple of pedigree
Devon cows I'd like to show you, Miss Vallincourt." Or, as yesterday:
"There's a pony fair to be held to-morrow at Pennaway Bridge. Would you
care to drive in it?" And to each and all of Storran's suggestions Magda
had yielded a ready assent.

So this morning had seen the two of them setting out for Pennaway
in Dan's high dog-cart, while Gillian and June stood together in the
rose-covered porch and watched them depart.

"Wouldn't you like to have gone?" Gillian asked on a sudden impulse.

She regretted the question the instant it had passed her lips, for in
the wide-apart blue eyes June turned upon her there was something of the
mute, puzzled misery of a dog that has received an unexpected blow.

"I couldn't spare the time," she answered hastily. "You see"--the
sensitive colour as usual coming and going quickly in her face--"Miss
Vallincourt is on a holiday."

She turned and went quickly into the house, leaving Gillian conscious of
a sudden uneasiness--that queer "trouble ahead" feeling which descends
upon us sometimes, without warning and without our being able to assign
any very definite cause for it.

She was thinking over the little incident now, as she sat sewing in the
evening light, and meditating whether she should give Magda a hint that
it might be kinder of her not to monopolise so much of Dan's society.
And then the crisp sound of a horse trotting on the hard, dry road came
to her ears, and almost imm