At four o’clock Kirsteen slipped in again, and whispered:  “She made me promise to come for her.  How pretty she looks, sleeping!”

“Yes,” Felix answered; “pretty and good!”

Nedda raised her head, stared up at her aunt, and a delighted smile spread over her face.  “Is it time again?  How lovely!” Then, before either could speak or stop her, she was gone.

“She is more in love,” Kirsteen murmured, “than I ever saw a girl of her age.”

“She is more in love,” Felix answered, “than is good to see.”

“She is not truer than Derek is.”

“That may be, but she will suffer from him.”

“Women who love must always suffer.”

Her cheeks were sunken, shadowy; she looked very tired.  When she had gone to get some sleep, Felix restored the fire and put on a kettle, meaning to make himself some coffee.  Morning had broken, clear and sparkling after the long rain, and full of scent and song.  What glory equalled this early morning radiance, the dewy wonder of everything!  What hour of the day was such a web of youth and beauty as this, when all the stars from all the skies had fallen into the grass!  A cold nose was thrust into his hand, and he saw beside him Tod’s dog.  The animal was wet, and lightly moved his white-tipped tail; while his dark-yellow eyes inquired of Felix what he was going to give a dog to eat.  Then Felix saw his brother coming in.  Tod’s face was wild and absent as a man with all his thoughts turned on something painful in the distance.  His ruffled hair had lost its brightness; his eyes looked as if driven back into his head; he was splashed with mud, and wet from head to foot.  He walked up to the hearth without a word.

“Well, old man?” said Felix anxiously.

Tod looked at him, but did not answer.

“Come,” said Felix; “tell us!”

“Locked up,” said Tod in a voice unlike his own.  “I didn’t knock them down.”

“Heavens!  I should hope not.”

“I ought to have.”

Felix put his hand within his brother’s arm.

“They twisted her arms; one of them pushed her from behind.  I can’t understand it.  How was it I didn’t?  I can’t understand.”

“I can,” said Felix.  “They were the Law.  If they had been mere men you’d have done it, fast enough.”

“I can’t understand,” Tod repeated.  “I’ve been walking ever since.”

Felix stroked his shoulder.

“Go up-stairs, old man.  Kirsteen’s anxious.”

Tod sat down and took his boots off.

“I can’t understand,” he said once more.  Then, without another word, or even a look at Felix, he went out and up the stairs.

And Felix thought:  ’Poor Kirsteen!  Ah, well—­they’re all about as queer, one as the other!  How to get Nedda out of it?’