With the departure of the more stirring member of the company,
Miss Wych had subsided; and in that state could feel that she
was tired. She sat in the doorway of the mill. It was after
sundown; still, bright, sweet, and fair, as after sundown in
June can be. The sky all aglow still with cooler lights; in
the depth of the hollow the morsel of a lake had a dark
shining of its own, like a black diamond, or a green jasper,
with the light off. Mrs. Saddler was gone up the hill with
Phoebe, to get her share of hospitality. Mr. Falkirk had
supped on the remains of the strawberries and milk, and would
have nothing more. Guardian and ward were alone. The stillness
of Summer air floated down from the tree-tops, and did not
stir the lake.

'Wych, how do you like seeking your fortune? I am curious to
be informed?'

'Thank you, sir. The finding to-day has gone so far beyond my
expectations, that I am willing to rest the pursuit till to-
morrow.'

'Fortune and you clasp hands rather roughly at first setting
out! But what do you think of the train she has brought with
her in these seven days?'

'What train, sir?'

'I asked you what you thought of it. Answer straight like a