t was Merle, and Merle was
looking round her, and humming as she came. Since the birth of her child
her mind was at peace; it was clear that she was scarcely dreaming now
of conquering the world with her music--there was a tiny being in the
little cart that claimed all her dreams. Never before had her skin
been so dazzling, her smile so red; it was as if her youth now first
blossomed out in all its fullness; her eyes seemed opened wide in a dear
surprise.

After a while Peer went down and drove the mowing machine himself. He
felt as if he must get to work somehow or other to provide for his wife
and child.

But suddenly he stopped, got down, and began to walk round the machine
and examine it closely. His face was all alert now, his eyes keen and
piercing. He stared at the mechanism of the blades, and stood awhile
thinking.

What was this? A happy idea was beginning to work in his mind. Vague
only as yet--there was still time to thrust it aside. Should he?

Warm mild days and luminous nights. Sometimes he could not sleep for
thinking how delicious it was to lie awake and see the sun come up.

On one such night he got up and dressed. A few minutes later there was
a trampling of hoofs in the stable-yard and the chestnut stallion
appeared, with Peer leading him. He swung himself into the saddle, and
trotted off down the road, a white figure in his drill suit and cork
helmet.

Where was he going? Nowhere. It was a change, to be up at an unusual
hour and see the day break on a July morning.

He trotted along at an easy pace, rising lightly in the stirrups, and
enjoying the pleasant warmth the rider feels. All was quiet around him,
the homesteads still asleep. The sky was a pearly white, with here and
there a few golden clouds, reflected in the lake below. And the broad
meadows still spread their many-coloured flower-carpet abroad; there was
a scent in the air of leaf and meadow-grass and pine, he drew in deep
breaths of it and could have sung aloud.

He turned into the by-road up the hill, dismounting now and again to
open a gate; past farms and little cottages, ever higher and higher,
till at last he reached the topmost ridge, and halted in a clearing. The
chestnut threw up his head and sniffed the air; horse and rider were
wet with the dew-drip from the trees, that were now just flushing in the
first glow of the coming sun. Far below was the lake, reflecting sky
and hills and farmsteads, all asleep. And there in