d it was not she who had done wrong. She
could not get the seine-maker out of her thoughts. The old man was
said to have been rich at one time; he had once owned seven big
farmsteads, each in itself worth as much as Eric of Falla's farm.
But in some unaccountable way he had disposed of his property and
was now quite penniless.

However, the next morning Glory Goldie went over to the brook the
same as usual. This time no one had touched her hooks, for now
there was a fish at the end of every line. She released the fishes
from the hooks and laid them in her basket; but instead of going
home with her catch she went straight to the seine-maker's cabin.

When the little girl came along with her basket the old man was out
in the yard, cutting wood. She stood at the stile a moment,
watching him, before stepping over. He looked pitifully poor and
ragged. Even her father had never appeared so shabby.

The little girl had heard that some well-do-to people had offered
the seine-maker a home for life, but in preference he had gone to
live with his daughter-in-law, who made her home here in the
Ashdales, so as to help her in any way that he could; she had many
children, and her husband, who had deserted her, was now supposed
to be dead.

"To-day there was fish on the hooks!" shouted the little girl from
the stile.

"You don't tell me!" said the seine-maker. "But that was well."

"I'll gladly give you all the fish I catch," she told him, "if I'm
only allowed to do the fishing myself." So saying, she went up to
the seine-maker and emptied the contents of her basket on the
ground, expecting of course that he would be pleased and would
praise her, just as her father--who was always pleased with
everything she said or did--had always done. But the seine maker
took this attention with his usual calm indifference.

"You keep what's yours," he said. "We're so used to going hungry
here that we can get on without your few little fishes."

There was something out of the common about this poor old man and
Glory Goldie was anxious to win his approval.

"You may take the fish of and stick the worms on the hooks, if you
like," said she, "and you can have all the tackle and everything."

"Thanks," returned the old man. "But I'll not deprive you of your
pleasure."

Glory Goldie was determined not to go until she had thought out a
way of satisfying him.

"Would you like me to come and call for you every morning," she
asked him, "so t