She went away. Directly Jethro heard her foot on the stairs he called her, in a masterful way, just as if she already belonged to him.

He said, his face shining with hospitality and kinsmanship, how pleased he was. He spoke of driving Edred over to Turle that very day, but she negatived it as skillfully as she could. Then he spoke heartily of the wedding and of Edred’s opportune arrival. She was afraid that he meant to kiss her again; he seemed prone to hearty lover’s kisses, without considering mood or asking for permission. Nettie, bearing a steaming soup tureen, saved her.

The gong—one of her civilized institutions—was beaten. Edred came humming down the shallow stairs. The three took their seats at the low, narrow table—Jethro on the high master’s stool at one end, Pamela on the other, Edred modestly at the side.

Both men ate and talked heartily, Pamela childishly crumbled bread in her soup. When the meal was over she left them; decanters on the table, the smoke of tobacco mingling with the smoke from the fire. She went into the gay drawing-room and stretched flat on the sofa.

She looked at the trivial vanities which she had brought home so joyfully from Liddleshorn. She looked, as Gainah had looked, with somber eyes. Her life was wrecked too. She would never be the mistress of Folly Corner now.

Through the stout doors came the men’s laughter. Edred’s became more roystering as the minutes ticked on. She could hear in the intervals the steady stroke of the clock, the rumbling groan it gave before it delivered itself of the quarters.

Her arms were above her head, her widely-opened eyes looked across the hot purple furrows of the field. She could see a long way, over hedges, across copses. She saw stretches of pasture, dotted with cows; saw verdant fields of rye-grass; fields of turnips half devoured by sheep, which were shut in by hurdles.

The sun shone, the birds sang, one or two adventurous bees came in at the window. Every now and then that laugh of license, of reckless disregard, pierced the thick doors, and she blenched. She could no longer see the future.

[CHAPTER IX.]