At Love's Cost

For an instant the colour rose to her face, but for an instant only,

and before Stafford had reached her, she was as pale, as calm as usual.

She noticed that he was dressed in a serge suit, noticed vaguely how

well it sat upon him, that his gait had a peculiar ease and grace which

the men of the dale lacked, that his handsome face flushed lightly as

he saw her; but she gave no sign of these quick apprehensions, and sat

cold and sphinx-like waiting for him.

Strafford's heart leapt at sight of her with a sudden pleasure which

puzzled him; for he would not have admitted to himself that he had

walked in this direction in the hope, on the chance, of meeting her.

"Good-morning," he said, in his direct fashion, raising his cap. "I am

very fortunate to meet you. I hope Mr. Heron is no worse for--is not

ill?"

"No," she said in her low, clear voice. "My father is quite well; he is

just as he usually is this morning."

"I am very glad," said Stafford. He stood close beside the horse and

looked up at her; and for the first time in his life he was trying to

keep the expression of admiration out of his eyes; the expression which

he knew most women welcomed, but which, somehow or other, he felt this

strange girl would resent. "I was afraid he would be upset. I am afraid

you were frightened last night--it was enough to alarm, to startle

anyone. What a splendid morning!" he went on, quickly, as if he did not

want to remind her of the affair. "What a libel it is to say that it is

always raining here! I've never seen so brilliant a sunshine or such

colours: don't wonder that the artists rave about the place and are

never tired of painting it."

She waited until he had finished, her eyes downcast, as if she knew why

he had turned from the subject, then she raised them and looked at him

with her direct gaze.

"I am glad I have met you," she said. "I wanted to thank you for your

kindness last night--"

"Oh, but--" Stafford tried to break in, but she went on slowly, as if

he had not spoken.

--"I was--frightened: it was sudden, so unexpected. My father had never

done it before--that I know of--and he looked"--her voice broke for a

moment--"so strange, so ghost-like. I thought at first that it was the

Heron ghost which, they say, haunts the dale, though I have never seen

it."