For the first time, as she went into the great silent house, she

realised how lonely her life was, how drear and uneventful. Now and

again, while cantering along the roads on the big chestnut, she had met

other girls riding and driving: the Vaynes, the Avorys, and the

Bannerdales; had heard them talking and laughing merrily and happily,

but it had never occurred to her to envy them, to reflect that she was

different to other girls who had friends and companions and girlish

amusements. She had been quite content--until now. And even now she was

not discontented; but this acquaintanceship which had sprung up so

strangely between her and Mr. Orme was like the touch of a warm hand

stretched out from the great world, and its sudden warmth awoke her to

the coldness, the dreariness of her life.

As she entered the hall, Jessie came in by the back door with her apron

full of eggs.

"I saw you come in, Miss Ida, so I thought I'd just bring you these to

show you; they're laying finely now, ain't they?"

Ida looked round, from where she stood going through the form of drying

her thick but small boots against the huge log that glowed on the wide

dog-iron.

"Yes: that is a splendid lot, Jessie!" she said, with a smile. "You

will have some to send to market for the first time this season."

"Yes, miss," said Jessie, deftly rolling the eggs into a basket. "But

I'm thinking there won't be any need to send them to Bryndermere

market. Jason's just been telling me that the new folks up at Brae Wood

have been sending all round the place for eggs and butter and cream and

fowls, and Jason says that he can get so much better prices from them

than from Bryndermere. He was thinking that he'd put aside all the

cream he could spare and kill half a dozen of the pullets--if you don't

object, Miss Ida?"

Ida's face flushed, and she looked fixedly at the fire. Something

within her protested against the idea of selling the dairy produce to

the new people at Brae Wood; but she struggled against the feeling.

"Oh yes; why not, Jessie?" she said; though she knew well enough.

"Well, miss," replied Jessie, hesitatingly, and with a questioning

glance at her young mistress's averted face, "Jason didn't know at

first; he said that selling the things at the new house was different

to sending 'em to market, and that you mightn't like it; that you might

think it was not becoming."




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