“Yes,” said Embrance, holding out her hand. “Joan will be so disappointed to miss you. She is not in.”
The recollection of her plans for Joan’s future happiness brought the blood to her cheeks. She stooped over the fire to hide her confusion. Yes, she liked the look of him. He had a clever, kindly face, much bronzed by the sun; he wore a short beard and a turned-down collar; he had no gloves, and his hands were long and thin.
“Do let me do that for you,” said Mr. Meade, putting down his hat and umbrella. “I am exceedingly skilful at managing fires and chimneys; in fact, I have occasionally regretted not having been brought up to it professionally.”
“As a chimney-sweep?” inquired Embrance.
“No, I think not,” said Mr. Meade, gravely, as he inserted the poker between the bars, “but there might have been an opening as stoker or master of the bellows in some grand family. There, now, if you will allow me to have a sheet of newspaper, I think I shall succeed to perfection.”
Embrance fetched the newspaper, and in a few minutes the crimson flames were leaping up the chimney.
(To be continued.)
THE SHEPHERD’S FAIRY.
A PASTORALE.
By DARLEY DALE, Author of “Fair Katherine,” etc.