"Such a day!" she said, panting, as they met. "The girls and I began at six this morning—lifting and sorting. It was so important to get them in. Now they're safe if the frost does come. It's a jolly crop!"
Ellesborough looked at her, and her eyes wavered before the ardour in his.
"I say! You work too hard! Haven't you done enough? Come and rest."
She nodded. "I'll come!"
She ran to say a word to the others and rejoined him.
They went back to the farm, not talking much, but conscious through every nerve of the other's nearness. Rachel ran upstairs to change her dress, and Ellesborough put the fire together, and shut the windows. For the sun had sunk behind the hill, and a bitter wind was rising. When Rachel came down again, the wood-fire glowed and crackled, the curtains drawn, and she stared in astonishment at a small tea-tray beside the fire.
Ellesborough hurriedly apologized.
"I found some boiling water in the kettle, and I know by now where Miss
Janet keeps her tea."
"Janet brought us tea to the field."
"I dare say she did. That was four—this is six. You felt cold just now. You looked cold. Be good, and take it easy!" He pointed to the only comfortable chair, which he had drawn up to the fire.