e that which shakes the first green
leaf against the March sky, stole across her crushed heart, empty at
last, empty at last. She raised her hand timidly in the sunshine. She
was free. She looked round dazzled, bewildered. The little world of
sunshine and the turquoises of sky strewn among the golden net-work of
the trees smiled at her, as one who brings good tidings.

A certain familiar hold on life and nature, so old that it was almost
new, which she had forgotten, but which her former self used to feel,
came back suddenly upon her, like a lost friend from over-seas. Scales
seemed to fall from her eyes. The light was too much for her. She had
forgotten how beautiful the world was. Everything was possible.

Some, in the night of their desolation, can take comfort when they see
the morning-star shuddering white in the east, and can say, "Courage,
the day is at hand."

But others never realize that their night is over till the sun is up.
Rachel had sat in a long stupor. The message writ large for her comfort
in the stars that the night was surely waning had not reached her,
bowed, as she thought, beneath God's hand. And the sure return of the
sun at last came upon her like a miracle.

CHAPTER XXVI

"'Tis not for every one to catch a salmon."

Every one who knows Middleshire knows that the little lake of Beaumere
is bounded on the one side by the Westhope and on the other by the
Wilderleigh property, the boundary being the ubiquitous Drone, which
traverses the mere in a desultory fashion, and with the assistance of
several springs makes Beaumere what it is, namely (to quote from the
local guide-book), "the noblest expanse of water surrounded by some of
the most picturesque scenery in Middleshire."

Thither Doll and Hugh took their way in the leisurely manner of men
whose orthodoxy obliges them to regard Sunday as a day of rest.

Doll pointed out to Hugh the coppice which his predecessor, Mr. George
Loftus, had planted. Hugh regarded it without excitement. Both agreed
that it was coming on nicely. Hugh thought that he ought to do a little
planting at his own place. Doll said, "You can't do everything at once."
A large new farm was the next object of interest. "Uncle George rebuilt
Greenfields from the ground," remarked Doll, as they crossed the high
road and took to the harvesting fields, where "the ricks stood gray to
the sun."

Hugh nodded. Doll thought he was a very decent chap, though rather
low