been told, it was a case of twisted or bent axle, it would take longer,
but it would be here very soon. Ah, then, would he let her wait here, as
she was very anxious to know at once, and it was much cooler than in the
shed? Certainly; he would go over and bring her a bench. But here she
begged he wouldn't trouble himself, she could sit anywhere comfortably.

The lower end of the work-bench was covered with clean and odorous
shavings; she lightly brushed them aside and, with a youthful movement,
swung herself to a seat upon it, supporting herself on one hand as
she leaned towards him. She could thus see that his eyes were of a
light-yellowish brown, like clarified honey, with a singular look of
clear concentration in them, which, however, was the same whether turned
upon his work, the surrounding grain, or upon her. This, and his sublime
unconsciousness of the smudge across his face and his blackened hands,
made her wonder if the man who could do everything with wood and iron
was above doing anything with water. She had half a mind to tell him of
it, particularly as she noticed also that his throat below the line
of sunburn disclosed by his open collar was quite white, and his grimy
hands well made. She was wondering whether he would be affronted if she
said in her politest way, "I beg your pardon, but do you know you
have quite accidentally got something on your face," and offer her
handkerchief, which, of course, he would decline, when her eye fell on
the steam-engine.

"How odd! Do you use that on the farm?"

"No,"--he smiled here, the smudge accenting it and setting off his white
teeth in a Christy Minstrel fashion that exasperated her--no, although
it COULD be used, and had been. But it was his first effort, made two
years ago, when he was younger and more inexperienced. It was a rather