to see the old stuff sold, the furnitur' an' that,--so she's goin' to
drive over to Cranbrook to be out o' the way while it's a-doin'."

"And when does the sale take place?"

"The Saturday arter next, sir, as ever was," Adam answered.
"But--hush,--mum's the word, sir!" he broke off, and winking violently
with a side-ways motion of the head, he took up his pitch-fork.
Wherefore, glancing round, Bellew saw Anthea coming towards them, fresh
and sweet as the morning. Her hands were full of flowers, and she
carried her sun-bonnet upon her arm. Here and there a rebellious curl
had escaped from its fastenings as though desirous (and very naturally)
of kissing the soft oval of her cheek, or the white curve of her neck.
And among them Bellew noticed one in particular,--a roguish curl that
glowed in the sun with a coppery light, and peeped at him wantonly
above her ear.

"Good morning!" said he, rising and, to all appearance, addressing the
curl in question, "you are early abroad this morning!"

"Early, Mr. Bellew!--why I've been up hours. I'm generally out at four
o'clock on market days; we work hard, and long, at Dapplemere," she
answered, giving him her hand with her grave, sweet smile.

"Aye, for sure!" nodded Adam, "but farmin' ain't what it was in my young
days!"

"But I think we shall do well with the hops, Adam."

"'Ops, Miss Anthea,--lord love you!--there ain't no 'ops nowhere so good