Kit laughed.  “I’d have known you much farther off.  There’s nobody in the dale who walks like you.”

Grace gave him a quiet glance that he met without embarrassment.  She saw that he had not meant to offer her a cheap compliment; yet the compliment was justified.  A dancing master had told her that she walked and carried herself well.

“But where are the sheep?” she asked.

“I left them in the field at the beckfoot,” he answered with a touch of awkwardness.  “We can bring them down afterwards; I remembered I wanted something at Allerby.”

Grace turned her head to hide a smile.  It was obvious that he had remembered he wanted to go to Allerby when he saw her.

“Oh, well,” she said, “I am going part of the way.  However, I mustn’t stop you if you want to get back to the sheep.”

“It isn’t at all important,” Kit declared.  Then he paused and Grace thought he was studying his old and rather muddy clothes.  “But, of course,” he resumed, “it’s possible you’d sooner go on alone.”

She laughed.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Askew!  I think you know what I mean.  I didn’t want to keep you from your work.”

He looked relieved.  “Yes.  Although I’m not very clever at this sort of thing, I generally do know what you mean.  I can’t tell if it’s strange or not.”

“It certainly is not worth while puzzling about.  I expect I’m rather obvious—­for that matter, so are you.”

“Frankness often saves you some trouble and I don’t know if it gives your opponent the advantage some folks imagine.  However, it’s not our rule in the dale to say all we feel.”

“It’s not Bell’s, for example.  How is the coal campaign getting on?”

“Well,” said Kit, thoughtfully, “so far as that goes, I believe we have beaten him.  There’s a new notice that lowers the price seven-and-six altogether, and last night we advised folks to buy.  But I don’t know if the fight’s over.  Bell may find another way of putting on the screw.”

“I hope he will give it up,” Grace replied.  “I tried to help, because I felt I must; but of course you see I can’t help again.”

Kit made a sign of understanding.  “Yes; you showed us how to bring the peat down.  Now I don’t know what to say.  It’s awkward ground.”

They were silent for some time afterwards, for both had said enough and knew that Osborn’s resentment must be reckoned on.  It made them feel like accomplices and drew them together.  They were young and not given to looking far ahead, but they saw the threat that the friendship both valued might be broken off.

By and by three or four reports rang through the calm air and Grace came near to stopping, but did not.  She had forgotten Osborn was shooting in Redmire wood and she and Kit must pass its edge.  For all that, she could not turn back.  Kit would guess why she did so; it would be an awkward admission that she was afraid of being seen with him by Osborn or his friends.  She was afraid, but she was proud, and went on, hoping that Kit had not noted her hesitation.  He had not, but was puzzled by her resolute and half-defiant look.