swers only reveal the woeful greatness of my ignorance. My
geography has run mad. I am planting forests in the midst of
corn-fields, so Dickie assures me, and making hay generally--as you, my
dear, would say--of the map."

Still her eyes dwelt upon Honoria's in insistent and loving appeal.

"Come," she said, "explain to him, and save me from further exposition
of my own ignorance."

Thus admonished the young lady sat down on the low sofa beside Richard
Calmady. As she did so Katherine rose and moved away. Honoria
determined to see only the young man's broad shoulders, his
irreproachable dress clothes, his strangely still and very handsome
face. But, since there was no concealing rug to cover them, it was
impossible that she should long avoid also seeing his shortened and
defective limbs and oddly shod feet. And at that she winced and shrank
a little, for all her high spirit and inviolate, maidenly strength.

"Oh yes! those fires!" she said hurriedly. "There were several--you
remember, Cousin Katherine?--or I dare say you don't, for you were ill
all the time. But the worst was on Spendle Flats. You know that long
three-cornered bit"--she looked Richard bravely in the face
again--"which lies between the Portsmouth Road and our crossroad to
Farley? It runs into a point just at the top of Star Hill."

"Yes, I know," Dickie said.

He had seen her wince.--Well, that wasn't wonderful! She could not very
well do otherwise, if she had eyes in her head. He did not blame her.
And then, though it was not easy to do so with entire serenity, this
was precisely one of those small unpleasant incidents which, in
obedience to his new code, he was bound to accept calmly,
good-temperedly, just as part of the day's work, in fact. He had done
with malingering. He had done with the egoism of sulking and
hiding--even to the extent of a _couvre-pieds_. All right, here it
was!--Richard settled his shoulders squarely against the straight,
stuffed back of the Chippendale sofa, and talked on.

"It's a pity that bit is burnt," he said. "I haven't been over that
ground for nearly six years, of course. But I remember there were very
good trees there--a plantation at the top end, just before you come to
the big gravel-pits, and the rest self-sown. Are they all gone?"

"Licked as clean as the back of your hand," Honoria replied, warming to
her subject. "They hardly repaid felling for firewood. It made me
wretched. Some idiot threw down a match,