r and her efforts to keep the great place from going to rack and
ruin, to think of herself; and if her glass had ever whispered that she
was one of the loveliest of the daughters of Eve, she had turned a deaf
ear to it.

No; she assured herself that it was just a whim of Mr. Orme's, a
passing fancy and caprice which would soon be satisfied, and that he
would tire of it after a few days, perhaps hours. Of course, she was
wrong to humour the whim; but it had been hard to refuse him, hard to
seem churlish and obstinate after he had been so kind on the night her
father had frightened her by his sleep-walking; and it had been still
harder because she had been conscious of a certain pleasure in the
thought that she should see him again.

For the first time, as she went into the great silent house, she
realised how lonely her life was, how drear and uneventful. Now and
again, while cantering along the roads on the big chestnut, she had met
other girls riding and driving: the Vaynes, the Avorys, and the
Bannerdales; had heard them talking and laughing merrily and happily,
but it had never occurred to her to envy them, to reflect that she was
different to other girls who had friends and companions and girlish
amusements. She had been quite content--until now. And even now she was
not discontented; but this acquaintanceship which had sprung up so
strangely between her and Mr. Orme was like the touch of a warm hand
stretched out from the great world, and its sudden warmth awoke her to
the coldness, the dreariness of her life.

As she entered the hall, Jessie came in by the back door with her apron
full of eggs.

"I saw you come in, Miss Ida, so I thought I'd just bring you these to
show you; they're laying finely now, ain't they?"

Ida looked round, from where she stood going through the form of drying
her thick but small boots against the huge log that glowed on the wide
dog-iron.

"Yes: that is a splendid lot, Jessie!" she said, with a smile. "You
will have some to send to market for the first time this season."

"Yes, miss," said Jessie, deftly rolling the eggs into a basket. "But
I'm thinking there won't be any need to send them to Bryndermere
market. Jason's just been telling me that the new folks up at Brae Wood
have been sending all round the place for eggs and butter and cream and
fowls, and Jason says that he can get so much better prices from them
than from Bryndermere. He was thinking that he'd put aside all the