burst into tears on these occasions, and wish that her visit was ended, and that she was once again in the eventless tranquillity of her own home.  Yet presently her fancy changed, and she clung to the swiftly passing hours, as if she would still retain the happiness of each.  For, unknown to her, Roger was exerting himself to make her visit pleasant.  He was not willing to appear as the instigator of all the little plans for each day, for he felt as if somehow he did not hold the same place in her regard as formerly.  Still, one day Aimee suggested a nutting expedition—­another day they gave little Roger the unheard-of pleasure of tea out-of-doors —­there was something else agreeable for a third; and it was Roger who arranged all these simple pleasures—­such as he knew Molly would enjoy.  But to her he only appeared as the ready forwarder of Aimee’s devices.  The week was nearly gone, when one morning the squire found Roger sitting in the old library—­with a book before him, it is true, but so deep in thought that he was evidently startled by his father’s unexpected entrance.

’I thought I should find thee here, my lad!  We’ll have the old room done up again before winter; it smells musty enough, and yet I see it’s the place for thee!  I want thee to go with me round the five-acre.  I’m thinking of laying it down in grass.  It’s time for you to be getting into the fresh air, you look quite woebegone over books, books, books; there never was a thing like ’em for stealing a man’s health out of him!’

So Roger went out with his father, without saying many words till they were at some distance from the house.  Then he brought out a sentence with such abruptness that he repaid his father for the start the latter had given him a quarter of an hour before.

’Father, you remember I’m going out again to the Cape next month!  You spoke of doing up the library.  If it is for me, I shall be away all the winter.’

‘Can’t you get off it?’ pleaded his father.  ’I thought maybe you’d forgotten all about it—­’

‘Not likely!’ said Roger, half-smiling.

‘Well, but they might have found another man to finish up your work.’

’No one can finish it but myself.  Besides, an engagement is an engagement.  When I wrote to Lord Hollingford to tell him I must come home, I promised to go out again for another six months.’

’Ay.  I know.  And perhaps it will put it out of thy mind.  It will always be hard on me to part from thee.  But I daresay it’s best for you.’

Roger’s colour deepened.  ’You are alluding to—­to Miss Kirkpatrick—­ Mrs. Henderson, I mean.  Father, let me tell you once for all I think that was rather a hasty affair.  I am pretty sure now that we were not suited to each other.  I was wretched when I got her letter—­at the Cape I mean—­but I believe it was for the best.’

‘That’s right.  That’s my own boy,’ said the squire, turning round and shaking hands with his son with vehemence.  ’And now I’ll tell you what I heard the other day, when I was at the magistrates’ meeting.  They were all saying she had jilted Preston.’