the sill blaze as brightly as the beautiful blossoms of painted wax
that, under their glass shade, held an example of neat perfection up
to Nature.

Willie nodded at Loveday with a trifle less of sulkiness in his manner,
took a step forward and relapsed once more. A little silence seemed to
catch them all, broken by good Mrs. Lear saying:

"You'm early to-day, Loveday. Milken's not over yet."

"I'm come to see you a moment, if 'tes possible," said Loveday, some of
her shining confidence already fallen from her, she knew not why.

"Well," said Primrose spitefully, guessing her presence would embarrass
Loveday, "Mrs. Lear's here and I daresay'll speak to 'ee. Can't be any
secret from me, of course, whatever 'tes."

Mrs. Lear, suddenly sorry for Loveday, although Primrose on entering the
day before had told her a tale that had angered her, said:

"Come into dairy, Loveday; you can tell me what 'tes while I see to your
aunt's bit of butter."

Loveday followed her into the cool dairy, where on the scrubbed
white wood shelves the great red earthen pans stood in rows holding
their thick crinkled cream, which Loveday never saw without a thought
of awe for her mother's miracle, and the waves that had surged over
her father's head. Thought of it now restored her sense of her own
power--the cream was ever for her a symbol of divine interposition, and
if her own parents had been found worthy of such a sign, why should not