for the
first time.

"One could be so happy if mamma--and if Dick could find something to
do!" she thought; and at the thought her eyes grew sadder and the sweet
lips drooped still more at the corner; but as she went up the hill, the
fine rare air, the brilliant sunshine acted like an anodyne, and the
eyes grew brighter, the lips relaxed, so that Smart's--the
butcher's--face broadened into a smile of sympathy as he touched his
forehead with a huge and greasy finger.

"Sweetbreads! No, no, miss; I've promised the cook up at the
Hall----There, bless your heart, Miss Nell, don't 'ee look so
disappointed. I'll send 'em--yes, in half an hour at most. Dang me if it
was the top brick off the chimney I reckon you'd get 'ee, for there
ain't no refusin' 'ee anything!"

Nell thanked him with a smile and a grateful beam from her gray eyes,
and then, still lighter-hearted, went on to Mrs. Porter's. By great good
luck not only had the toilet vinegar arrived from London, but a copy of
the _Fashion Gazette_; and with these in her hand Nell went homeward.
But at the bend of the road near the cottage she paused. Mrs. Lorton
would not want the vinegar or the paper for another hour. Would there be
time to run down to the jetty and look at the sea? She slipped the paper
and the bottle in the hedge, and went lightly down the road. It was so
steep that strangers went cautiously and leaned on their sticks, but
Nell nearly ran and seemed scarcely to touch the ground; for she had
toddled down that road as a child, and knew every stone in it; knew
where to leave it for the narrow little path which provided a short cut,
and where to turn aside for the marvelous view of the tiny harbor that
looked like a child's toy on the edge of the opal sea.

Women and children came out of the cottages as she went swiftly past,
and she exchanged greetings with them; but she was in too great a hurry
to stop, and one child followed after her with bitter complaint.

She stood for a moment or two talking to some of the men mending their
nets on the jetty, called down to Dick, who was lying--he was always
reclining on something--basking in the stern of his anchored boat; then
she went, more slowly, up the hill again.

As she neared the cottage, a sound rose from the house and mingled with
the music of the stream. It was the yelp of staghounds. She stopped and
listened, and wondered whether the stag would run down the hill, as it
sometimes did; then she went on