said Aileen to the twins who were with her for
their annual checkerberry picnic, "I'll be down in a few minutes."

They were on the edge of the quarry woods which sheltered the Colonel's
outlying sheep pastures and protected from the north wind the two
sheepfolds that were used for the autumn and early spring. Dulcie and
Doosie, obedient to Aileen's request, raced hand in hand across the
short-turfed pastures, balancing their baskets of red berries.

The late afternoon sunshine of the last of October shone clear and warm
upon the fading close-cropped herbage that covered the long slopes. The
sheep were gathering by flocks at the folds. The collie, busy and
important, was at work with 'Lias rounding up the stragglers. Aileen's
eyes were blinded to the transient quiet beauty of this scene, for she
was alive to but one point in the landscape--the red brick house with
granite trimmings far away across the Rothel, and the man leaving the
carriage which had just stopped at the front porch. She could not
distinguish who it was, and this fact fostered conjecture--Could it be
Champney Googe who had come home to help settle the trouble in the
sheds?

How she hated him!--yet her heart gave a sudden sick throb of
expectation. How she hated herself for her weakness!

"You look tired to death, Aileen," was Mrs. Caukins' greeting a few
minutes afterwards, "come in and rest yourself before supper. Luigi was
here just now and I've sent Dulcie over with him to Aurora's to get the
Colonel; I saw him go in there fifteen minutes ago, and he's no notion
of time, not even meal-time, when he's talking business with her. I know
it's business, because Mr. Emlie drove up with him; he's waiting for him
to come out. Romanzo has just telephoned that he can't get home for
supper, but he'll be up in time to see you home."

Mrs. Caukins was diplomatic; she looked upon herself as a committee of
one on ways and means to further her son's interest so far as Aileen
Armagh was concerned; but that young lady was always ready with a check
to her mate.

"Thank you, Mrs. Caukins, but I'll not trouble him; Tave is coming up to
drive me home about eight; he knows checkerberry picking isn't easy
work."

Mrs. Caukins was looking out of the window and did not reply.

"I declare," she exclaimed, "if there isn't Octavius this very minute
driving up in a rush to Aurora's too--and Father Honore's with
him!--Why, what--"

Without waiting to finish her thought,