appreciating this fact, yet, by a sort of intuition, suspected that
Phoebe's grief, perhaps even her steadfastness of purpose, would suffer
diminution before very great lapse of time. Without knowing why, he
hoped it might be so. Her voice fell melodiously upon an ear long tuned
to the whine of native women. It came from the lungs, was full and
sweet, with a shy suddenness about it, like the cooing of wood doves.
She half slipped at a stile, and he put out his hand and touched her
waist and felt his heart throb. But Phoebe's eyes rarely met her new
friend's. The girl looked with troubled brows ahead into the future,
while she walked beside him; and he, upon her left hand, saw only the
soft cheek, the pouting lips, and the dimples that came and went.
Sometimes she looked up, however, and Grimbal noted how the flutter of
past tears shook her round young breast, marked the spring of her step,
the freedom of her gait, and the trim turn of her feet and ankles. After
the flat-footed Kaffir girls, Phoebe's instep had a right noble arch in
his estimation.

"To think that I, as never wronged faither in thought or deed, should be
treated so hard! I've been all the world to him since mother died, for
he's said as much to many; yet he's risen up an' done this, contrary to
justice and right and Scripture, tu."

"You must be patient, Phoebe, and respect his age, and let the matter
rest till the time grows ripe. I can't advise you better than that."

"'Patient!' My life's empty, I tell 'e--empty, hollow, tasteless wi'out
my Will."

"Well, well, we'll see. I'm going to build a big red-brick house
presently, and buy land, and make a bit of a stir in my small way.