lod-hopper about him albeit he followed the plough. He was
obviously a son of the soil, and he would wrest his living therefrom,
but he would do it with brain as well as hands. He had a wide forehead
above his somewhat sombre eyes.

"I am very sorry," she said again.

"I am sorry for you," he said. "Wouldn't it be as well to get out of
this rain? It's only a step to the mill."

She turned with docility and looked towards the two horses standing
patiently where he had left them on the brown slope of the hill.

"Not that way," he said. "Come across this field to the road. It is no
distance from there."

Doris began to gather up her skirt. It was wet through and caked with
mud. She caught her breath again as she did it. The pain in her shoulder
was becoming intense.

And then, to her amazement, Jeff Ironside suddenly stooped and put his
arms about her. Almost before she realized his intention, and while she
was still gasping her astonishment, he had lifted her and begun to move
with long, easy strides over the sodden turf.

"Oh," she said, "you--you--really you shouldn't!"

"It's the only thing to do," he returned.

And somehow--perhaps because he spoke with such finality--she did not
feel inclined to dispute the point. She submitted with a confused murmur
of thanks.

CHAPTER III

THE APOLOGY

On an old oaken settle, cushioned like a church-pew, before a generous,
open fire, Doris began to forget her woes. She looked about her with
interest the while she endeavoured to sip a cup of steaming milk treated
with brandy that Jeff Ironside had brought her.

An old, old woman hobbled about the oak-raftered kitchen behind her
while Jeff himself knelt before her and unlaced her mud-caked boots. She
would have protested against his doing this had protest been of the
smallest avail, but when she attempted it he only smiled a faint, grim
smile and continued his task.

As he finally drew them off she thanked him in a small, shy voice. "You
are very kind--much kinder than I deserve," she said. "Do you know I've
often thought that I ought to have come to apologize for--for ordering
you off your own ground that day in the summer?"

He looked up at her as he knelt, and for the first time she heard him
laugh. There was something almost boyish in his laugh. It transformed
him utterly, and it had a marvellous effect upon her.

She laughed also and was instantly at her ease. She suddenly discovered
that he was youn