f the gate, and it was old Tommy
again, who (having been up to the "Plough" to "put a sight on himself")
had come round to welcome me as well--a little older, a little feebler,
"tacking a bit," as he said, with "romps in his fetlock joints," but
feeling "well tremenjus."

He had brought the "full of his coat-pockets" of lobsters and crabs for
me ("wonderful good for invalids, missie") and the "full of his mouth"
of the doings at Castle Raa, which he had left immediately after
myself--Price also, neither of them being willing to stay with a master
who had "the rough word" for everybody, and a "misthress" who had "the
black curse on her" that would "carry her naked sowl to hell."

"I wouldn't be gardener there, after the lil missie had gone . . . no,
not for the Bank of Ellan and it full of goold."

What a happy, happy day that was! There was many another day like it,
too, during the sweet time following, when spring was smiling once more
upon earth and man, and body and soul in myself were undergoing a
resurrection no less marvellous.

After three or four weeks I had so far recovered as to be able to take
walks with Martin--through the leafy lanes with the golden gorse on the
high turf hedges and its nutty odour in the air, as far, sometimes, as
to the shore, where we talked about "asploring" or perhaps (without
speaking at all) looked into each other's eyes and laughed.

There was really only one limitation to my happiness, separation from my
child, and though I was conscious of something anomalous in my own
position which the presence of my baby would make acute (setting all the
evil tongues awag), I could not help it if, as I grew stronger, I
yearned for my little treasure.

The end of it was that, after many timid efforts, I took courage and
asked Martin if I might have my precious darling back.

"Girlie?" he cried. "Certainly you may. You are well enough now, so why
shouldn't you? I'm going to London on Exploration business soon, and
I'll bring her home with me."

But when he was gone (Mildred went with him) I was still confronted by
one cause of anxiety--Christian Ann. I could not even be sure she knew
of the existence of my child, still less that Martin intended to fetch
her.

So once more I took my heart in both hands, and while we sat together in
the garden, with the sunlight pouring through the trees, Christian Ann
knitting and I pretending to read, I told her all.

She knew everything already, the