good-bye; 'my Brail afternoons always keep me out
until dinner-time;' and Geraldine had generously assented to this. She
admired Audrey's benevolence in walking all those miles to see her old
friend; the whole family took a lively interest in honest Tom O'Brien,
though it must be allowed that Mrs. Baxter was by no means a favourite.

Audrey would have enjoyed her walk more if she could have kept her
thoughts free from Mr. Blake; but, unfortunately, the long grassy lanes
she was just entering only recalled the time when he had carried Booty
and had walked with her to the gate of Woodcote; and she found herself
wondering, in a vexed manner, as to the cause of the gravity that had
excited his mother's uneasiness.

But she grew impatient with herself presently.

'After all, what does it matter to me?' she thought, as she stopped to
gather some red leaves. 'I daresay it was only Miss Frances, after
all.'

And then she recoiled with a sort of shock, for actually within a few
feet of her was a tall figure in a brown tweed coat. She had been so
busy with her thoughts and the red and yellow leaves that she had not
seen Mr. Blake leaning against the gate that led into the ploughed
field. She might even have passed him, if he had not started up and
confronted her.

'Miss Ross,' grasping her hand, 'please let me gather those for you;
they are too difficult for you to reach--the ditch is so wide. How many
do you want? Do you care for that bit of barberry?'

'Thank you; I think I have enough now,' returned Audrey very gravely.

She was quite unprepared for this meeting. She had seen the flash of joy
in his eyes as he sprang forward to meet her, and she was annoyed to
feel that her own cheeks were burning. And she was clear-sighted enough
to notice something else--that Mr. Blake was talking eagerly and
gathering the coloured leaves at random, as though he hardly knew what
he was doing, and that, after that first look, he was avoiding her eye,
as though he were afraid that he had betrayed himself. Audrey's maidenly
consciousness was up in arms in a moment. The gleam in Cyril's eyes had
opened hers. Some instinct of self-defence made her suddenly entrench
herself in stiffness; the soft graciousness that was Audrey's chief
charm seemed to desert her, and for once in her life she was a little
abrupt.

'There is no need to gather any more, thank you. I have all I want, and
I am in a great hurry;' and she held out her hand for the