"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she said helplessly. "I must not let
myself do this. I mustn't, Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

She was so overpowered by her sense of her own weakness that she was
conscious of nothing but the fact that she must control it. Upon the
elastic moorland road wheels stole upon one without sound. So the wheels
of a rapidly driven high cart approached her and were almost at her side
before she lifted her head, startled by a sudden consciousness that a
vehicle was near her.

It was Lord Walderhurst's cart, and even as she gazed at him with
alarmed wet eyes, his lordship descended from it and made a sign to his
groom, who at once impassively drove on.

Emily's lips tried to tremble into a smile; she put out her hand
fumblingly toward the fish-basket, and having secured it, began to rise.

"I--sat down to rest," she faltered, even apologetically. "I walked to
Maundell, and it was so hot."

Just at that moment a little breeze sprang up and swept across her
cheek. She was so grateful that her smile became less difficult.

"I got what Lady Maria wanted," she added, and the childlike dimple in
her cheek endeavoured to defy her eyes.

The Marquis of Walderhurst looked rather odd. Emily had never seen him
look like this before. He took a silver flask out of his pocket in a
matter-of-fact way, and filled its cup with something.