he happier for
the frail barriers and the secret exchanged by stealth before the
others. At lunch, eaten on the grassy slope of the next field, he did
not even sit next her, but both had to watch over themselves that they
did not yield too often to the temptation of a glance that would have
told as much to an onlooker as to each other.

The afternoon somehow lacked the first ecstasy of the morning, the
labour suddenly became harder to unaccustomed muscles, and the girls lay
in the shadows of the stooks and idled. They had time to talk among
themselves while Ishmael and John-James worked on at the far end of the
field. Blanche thought it rather silly and tiresome of Ishmael to keep
on at it; surely he could leave that clumsy brother of his--for the
first time the realisation that John-James actually was whole brother to
Ishmael flashed into her mind--and wander away somewhere with her! What
was the good of being the owner and master if he could not get some one
else to do the work when it became a bore? So Blanche inwardly; and
Ishmael, to whom it would never have occurred to begin work on a field
and leave it half-done, went on steadily--stooping, gathering, binding;
she could see the perpetual crouch of his figure, hardly ever
straightening itself, down there against a background of green hedge and
sullen grey sea.

Blanche leant up alongside her stook and Vassie sat watching her, while
Judy, who had seen a wistful look on Phoebe's baby face, drew her into
such superficial personal talk as she could best compass.

"When do you go back to London?" was Vassie's abrupt and not very happy
opening.

"Why, I don't know ... it all depends," answered Blanche, her beautiful
low voice sounding very rich after Vassie's hard tones. "You've never
been to London, have you, Vassie? I may call you Vassie, mayn't I?"

"I've never been further than Plymouth."

"You must come to London some day with me," said Blanche. She had no
intention of spending all her days at Cloom, and she wished to win over
this sulky beauty to her side. Vassie looked doubtfully at her, but
began to thaw. London ... it meant all of hope and the future to Vassie.

"I would dearly love to," she said. "I suppose you know it very well,
like I know Penzance. I don't go even to Plymouth very often, and of
course it's not London. The people are rather common. I daresay there's
all sorts in London, but I suppose you know a lot of families up there?"

"A good ma