minutes.”  Jinny made sarcastic comments on his tardy appearance, and laughed at his heavy eyes.  That was the worst of it—­Jinny was always laughing at him; she “made little” of him on every possible occasion.  His “town” speech, his “finicky” ways, his state of collapse at the end of the day, his awkwardness in handling unaccustomed tools, were to her never-failing sources of amusement.  John set his teeth and made no sign of being wounded or annoyed, the sturdy spirit inherited from his mother’s people forbidding him to cry out when he was hurt; but his spirits were at a low ebb, and to-day he had walked forth after tea with a heart as sore and heavy as those over-strained arms of his.  Jinny had come out to the field with the “drinkin’s,” and her face looked so bewitching under the sun-bonnet, and her waist so tempting and trim beneath the crisp folds of her clean bed-gown, that John had made bold in cousinly fashion to encircle it with his arm, whereupon she had freed herself with an impatient twirl, remarking that she didn’t want no counter-jumpers to be measurin’ of her—­a sally which had been regarded as exquisitely humorous by the bystanders.  John’s cheeks burned as he thought of it.

“She needn’t be afraid—­I’ll not come nigh her again,” he muttered vengefully.

He was skirting the wheat-field now, the tall, green ears stirring with a pleasant rustling sound; in some distant reeds a bunting was warbling, a belated lark was circling slowly downwards over his head.  From the village yonder voices and laughter fell faintly on his ear, and all these mingled sounds served but to accentuate the prevailing impression of peace and stillness; as John strolled onwards, his heavy steps crushing out the aromatic perfume of the thyme which grew profusely along the path, he was insensibly soothed and calmed by the evening quietude.

Over the wooden railings now, and across the dewy pasture and up the tallest sandhill, from the top of which he could, as he knew, look down upon the sea.  The waters would be ruddy and golden at this hour, but by day ran brown and sluggish enough over the mud banks of the Alt.  On the other side of the shining expanse the houses of New Brighton would stand forth all flecked with gold, and farther still the very smoke of Liverpool would appear as a luminous yellow haze, and the masts and riggings of the ships lying at anchor would be turned into bars of gold.  John knew these things by heart, but was never tired of gazing upon them, and as he climbed the hill his heart grew lighter and lighter; the salt, tart breeze that lifted his hair as he topped it gave new vigour to his tired limbs, and a sudden sense of exhilaration to his whole being.  He stood at last with folded arms on the summit letting it sing past him, and gazing about him in vague delight.  A golden world indeed; just what he had expected to find.  A golden sea, a golden sky, the very sand and grasses at his feet appeared to be golden too.