’I should like a picture of her; yes, very much, thank you, Mr Holdsworth; but if you put that straw in her hair,’ (he was holding some wheat ears above her passive head, looking at the effect with an artistic eye,) ’you’ll ruffle her hair.  Phillis, my dear, if you’re to have your picture taken, go up-stairs, and brush your hair smooth.’

’Not on any account.  I beg your pardon, but I want hair loosely flowing.’  He began to draw, looking intently at Phillis; I could see this stare of his discomposed her—­her colour came and went, her breath quickened with the consciousness of his regard; at last, when he said, ’Please look at me for a minute or two, I want to get in the eyes,’ she looked up at him, quivered, and suddenly got up and left the room.  He did not say a word, but went on with some other part of the drawing; his silence was unnatural, and his dark cheek blanched a little.  Cousin Holman looked up from her work, and put her spectacles down.

‘What’s the matter?  Where is she gone?’

Holdsworth never uttered a word, but went on drawing.  I felt obliged to say something; it was stupid enough, but stupidity was better than silence just then.

‘I’ll go and call her,’ said I. So I went into the hall, and to the bottom of the stairs; but just as I was going to call Phillis, she came down swiftly with her bonnet on, and saying, ‘I’m going to father in the five-acre,’ passed out by the open ‘rector,’ right in front of the house-place windows, and out at the little white side-gate.  She had been seen by her mother and Holdsworth, as she passed; so there was no need for explanation, only cousin Holman and I had a long discussion as to whether she could have found the room too hot, or what had occasioned her sudden departure.  Holdsworth was very quiet during all the rest of that day; nor did he resume the portrait-taking by his own desire, only at my cousin Holman’s request the next time that he came; and then he said he should not require any more formal sittings for only such a slight sketch as he felt himself capable of making.  Phillis was just the same as ever the next time I saw her after her abrupt passing me in the hall.  She never gave any explanation of her rush out of the room.

So all things went on, at least as far as my observation reached at the time, or memory can recall now, till the great apple-gathering of the year.  The nights were frosty, the mornings and evenings were misty, but at mid-day all was sunny and bright, and it was one mid-day that both of us being on the line near Heathbridge, and knowing that they were gathering apples at the farm, we resolved to spend the men’s dinner-hour in going over there.  We found the great clothes-baskets full of apples, scenting the house, and stopping up the way; and an universal air of merry contentment with this the final produce of the year.  The yellow leaves hung on the trees ready to flutter down at the slightest puff of air;