retort, which nevertheless closed the discussion.

They went upstairs together, and parted on the landing.

"And you'll go to bed now, won't you?" urged Granny Grimshaw.

"All right," said Jeff.

But once in his own room he went to the low lattice-window that
overlooked the mill-stream, and stood before it looking gravely forth
over the still water. It was a night of many stars. Beyond the stream
there stretched a dream-valley across which the river mists were
trailing. The tall trees in the meadows stood up with a ghostly
magnificence against them. The whole scene was one of wondrous peace,
and all, as far as he could see, was his. But the man's eyes brooded
over his acres with a dumb dissatisfaction, and when he turned from the
window at last it was with a gesture of hopelessness.

"God help me for a fool!" he muttered between his teeth. "If I went near
her, they would kick me out by the back door."

He began to undress with savage energy, and finally flung himself down
on the old four-poster in which his father had lain before him, lying
there motionless, with fixed and sleepless eyes, while the hours went by
over his head.

Once--it was just before daybreak--he rose and went again to the open
window that overlooked his prosperous valley. A change had come over the
face of it. The mists were lifting, lifting. He saw the dark forms of
cattle standing here and there. The river wound, silent and mysterious,
away into the dim, quiet distance. A church clock struck, its tone vague
and remote as a voice from another world. And as if in answer to its
solemn call a lark soared upwards from the meadow by the mill-stream
with a burst of song.

The east was surely lightening. The night was gone. Jeff leaned his
burning temple against the window-frame with a feeling akin to physical
sickness. He was tired--dead tired; but he knew that he could not sleep
now. The world was waking. From the farmyard round the corner of the
house there came the flap of wings and the old rooster's blatant
greeting to the dawn.

In another half-hour the whole place would be stirring. He had wasted a
whole night's rest.

Fiercely he straightened himself. Surely his brain must be going! Why,
he had only spoken to her twice. And then, like a spirit that mocked,
the words ran through his brain: "Who ever loved that loved not at first
sight?"

So this was love, was it? This--was love!

With clenched hands he stood looking out to the dawning