and remember she has
never been used to hard words.'

'She has been very fortunate, then; but I think, sir, you forget
yourself when you remind me of my duty. Good-day.'

Jack bowed, or rather ducked his head, which nearly reached the thick
oak beam across the ceiling of the parlour, and as he was leaving the
room, Mrs Lambert said,--

'Will you take a cup of cider before you leave, sir?'

'No, I am obliged to you. I have dined, and must hasten homewards.'

And then Jack, inwardly conscious that he had been but a poor
ambassador, departed on his way to scale those heights which rise above
Bristol in a straight unbroken line, where the tower of Dundry stands
out against the sky.

Jack plodded on. His stalwart frame knew little of fatigue, and he was
not nearly as tired, when at last Bishop's Farm came in sight, as he
often felt when sitting with his long legs tucked under him on the high
stool in his uncle's workshop in Corn Street. When he reached the gate
of the farmyard he paused and determined to go round by the lane, and
then pass through the orchard to the house if he did not, as he hoped,
find Bryda on her favourite seat on the rough bit of limestone which
cropped out of the turf.

The sound of his steps brought Flick to inspect him. Flick was
satisfied, for he gave a low whine of welcome and rubbed his nose
against Jack's hand.

At the gate of the orchard Jack saw two figures--Bryda's and a man's;
the man, with a liver-and-white pointer at his feet, leaning against the
gate in an easy attitude; Bryda, on the other side, with her face
flushed, and a look in her eyes like a frightened fawn.

Jack strode up to the gate, and said in a rough tone,--

'Let me pass, sir. I have business with Miss Bryda.'

'So have I, sir, and I will despatch it, by your leave, without your
interference.'

Jack put his hand on the gate and pushed it towards Bryda, but a hand,
apparently as strong as his, pulled it back, with an oath.

'Wait one minute, Jack, wait till this gentleman is gone. He is speaking
to me about--about--'

Poor Bryda's voice broke down, and she hid her face in her hands.

'If _you_ wish it I _will_ wait,' Jack said. 'Do you wish me to wait?'

A faint 'Yes' was the reply.

'Then I'll wait,' Jack said, but, glancing at the Squire, he added, 'If
it were not for this wish of Miss Palmer's, sir, I would _not_ wait your
pleasure; but her word is law to me. If it weren't,' he muttered, 'I'd
knock yo