surprise Josiah did not as usual pour out his supply of village gossip.

CHAPTER VI

It was now four days since John's sentence had been pronounced, and not
to be allowed to swim in the heat of a hot September added to the
severity of the penalty. The heat as usual made tempers hot and
circumstances variously disturbed the household of Grey Pine. Politics
vexed and business troubled the master. Of the one he could not talk to
his wife--of the other he would not at present, hoping for better
business conditions, and feeling that politics and business were now
too nearly related to keep them apart. Ann, his wife, thought him
depressed--a rare mood for him. Perhaps it was the unusual moist heat. He
said, "Yes, yes, dear, one does feel it." She did not guess that the
obvious unhappiness of the lad who had won the soldier's heart was being
felt by Penhallow without his seeing how he could end it and yet not
lessen the value of a just verdict.

Of all those concerned Leila was the one most troubled. On this hot
afternoon she saw John disappear into the forest. When Mrs. Ann came out
on the porch where she had for a minute left the girl, she saw her
sewing-bag on a chair and caught sight of the flowing hair and agile
young figure as she set a hand on the low stone wall of the garden and
was over and lost among the trees. "Leila, Leila," cried Mrs. Ann, "I
told you to finish--" It was useless. "Everything goes wrong to-day,"
she murmured. "Well, school will civilize that young barbarian, and she
must have longer skirts." This was a sore subject and Leila had been
vainly rebellious.

Meanwhile the flying girl overtook John, who had things to think about
and wished to be alone. "Well," he said, with some impatience, "what is
it?"

"Oh, I just wanted a walk, and don't be cross, John."

He looked at her, and perhaps for the first time had the male perception
of the beauty of the disordered hair, the pleading look of the blue eyes,
and the brilliant colour of the eager flushed face. It was the hair--the
wonderful hair. She threw it back as she stood. No one could long be
cross to Leila. Even her resolute aunt was sometimes defeated by her
unconquerable sweetness.

"I am so sorry for you, John," she said.

"Well, I am not, Leila, if you mean that Uncle Jim was hard on me."

"Yes, he was, and I mean to tell him--I do."

"Please not." She said nothing in the way of reply, but only, "Let us go
and see the spring."