irt; the green leaves whispering above and around her; the rippling
of the brook running down the hillside--all these things belonged as
much to her as the frame belongs to the picture. Why did not Roland
come to see her thus? Was he afraid for the words he had said to her?
Were they not true words? Did he intend, by ignoring them, to teach
her that he had only been playing with her vanity and her credulity?

Tuesday was too wet and blowy to spread the linen, and Denas felt the
morning insufferably long and tedious. Her father, who had been on the
sea all night, dozed in his big chair on the hearthstone. Joan was
silent, and went about her duties in a tiptoeing way that was very
fretful to the impatience of Denas. Denas herself was knitting a
guernsey, and as she sat counting the stitches Tristram Penrose came
to the door and, after a moment's pause, spoke to her. He was a fine
young fellow with an open-air look on his brown face and an open-love
look in his brown eyes.

"My dear Denas," he said, "is your father in?"

"Tris, who gave you license to call me dear? and my father is asleep
by the fireside."

"Aw, then, the One who gave me license to live gave me the license to
love; and dear you be and dear you always will be to Tris Penrose. The
word may be shut in my heart or I may say it in your ear, Denas; 'tis
all the same; dear you be and dear you always will be."

She shrugged her shoulders petulantly, and yet could not resist the
merry up-glance which she knew went straight to the big fellow's
heart. Then she began to fold up her knitting. While Tris was talking
to her father, she would ask for permission to go and see Elizabeth.
While Tris was present, she did not think he would refuse her request,
for if he did so she could ask him for reasons and he would not like
to give them.

Denas had all the natural diplomacy of a clever woman, and she knew
the power of a fond word and a sunny smile. "Father"--is there any
fonder word?--"Father, I want to go and see Miss Tresham. She told me
a very important secret on Saturday, and I know she was expecting me
yesterday to talk it over with her;" then she went close to his side
and put her hand on his shoulder and snuggled her cheek in his big
beard, and called poor Tris' soul into his face for the very joy of
watching her.

John was not insensible to her charming. He hesitated, and Denas felt
the hesitation and met it with a bribe: "You could come up the cliff
to me