She inclined her head slightly.
"It does not matter," she said; "you were very kind in helping me with the lamb; and I ought to have told you that my father would be very glad if you would fish in the Heron; you will find some better trout higher up the valley."
"Thank you very much," said Stafford.
Calling the dogs, she turned away; then, fortunately, Stafford remembered the case of instruments.
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" he said; "I forgot this wallet. I found it by the stream after you had gone."
"Oh, my wallet!" she cried. "I am so glad you have found it. I don't know what I should have done if you had not; I should have had to send to Preston or to London; and, besides, it was a present from the old veterinary surgeon; he left it to me. There were some beautiful instruments in it."
Still smiling, she opened it, as if to show him. Stafford drew near, so near as to become conscious of the perfume of the rose in her bosom, of the still fainter but more exquisite perfume of her hair. He bent over the case in silence, and while they were looking a cloud sailed across the moon.
The sudden disappearance of the light roused her, as it were, to a sense of his presence.
"Thank you for bringing it to me," she said; "it was very good of you."
"Oh, I hadn't to bring it far," said Stafford. "I am staying at The
Woodman Inn, at Carysford."