"What, marry a farmer! Do you think the life of a farmer's wife would suit me? I shall go unmarried to my grave, unless I can marry as I choose."
Then she seemed to repent of the passionate words, and flung her beautiful arms round his neck and kissed his face.
"I hate myself," she said, "when I speak in that way to you, who have been so good to me."
"I do not mind it," said Robert Noel, honestly. "Never hate yourself for me, my lady lass."
She turned one glance from her beautiful eyes on him.
"When I seem to be ungrateful to you, do remember that I am not, Uncle Robert; I am always sorry. I cannot help myself, I cannot explain myself; but I feel always as though my mind and soul were cramped."
"Cramp is a very bad thing," said the stolid farmer.
She looked at him, but did not speak; her irritation was too great; he never understood her; it was not likely he ever would.
"I will go down to the mill-stream," she said.
With an impatient gesture she hastened out of the house.