thing else startling to break to me, because I
wish you would bring it out all at once now. I can bear it."

"That's all," said Jim, with a grin. "I shall save a lot of money. I
shall take a flat or a little house in London and do some work. There
are lots of things besides Free Trade; things I'm keener about, really.
I don't think Cicely will mind. I think she will go in with me."

Mrs. Graham took up her knitting again and put on another row of
stitches. Then she said, "I don't know why you asked my advice as to
what Cicely wanted. It seems to me you have thought it out pretty well
for yourself."

* * * * *

Jim rode over to Kencote two days after Cicely's return. It was a lovely
morning, and harvesting was in full swing as he trotted along between
the familiar fields. He felt rather sad at being about to leave it all;
he was a countryman at heart, although he had interests that were not
bucolic. But there was not much room for sadness in his mind. He was
sure of himself, and had set out to grasp a great happiness.

He met the Squire on his stout cob about a mile from Kencote, and pulled
up to speak to him.

"How are you, Jim?" he said heartily. "Birds doing all right? Ours are
first-class this year."

"I was coming to see you," he said. "I've got something to say."

"Well, say it here, my boy," said the Squire, "I'm not going to turn
back."

So they sat on their horses in the middle of the road and Jim said, "I
want to marry Cicely as soon as possible."

The Squire's jaw dropped as he stared at the suitor. Then he threw back
his head and produced his loud, hearty laugh. "Well, that's a funny
thing," he said. "I was only saying to my wife this morning that Cicely
would die an old maid if she looked to you to come and take her."

Jim's red face became a little redder, but the Squire did not give him
time to reply. "I was only joking, you know, Jim, my boy," he said
kindly. "I knew _you_ were all right, and I tell you frankly there's
nobody I'd sooner give my girl to. But why do you want to rush it now?
What about those rascally death duties?"

"It's only a question of income," said Jim shortly. "And I'm going to
let Mountfield for a year or two."

The Squire's jaw fell again. "Let Mountfield!" he cried. "O my dear
fellow, don't do that, for God's sake. Wait a bit longer. Cicely won't
run away. Ha! ha! Why she did run away--what? Look here, Jim, you're
surely not worrying y