all night your eyes couldn't be more like tea-saucers. You've walked
tew far, that's what it is. The weather is getting warm now, and the
air of these low-lying meads is not strengthening in summer. I wish
you lived up on higher ground with me, beside the kiln. You'd get as
strong as a hoss! Well, there; all that will come in time.'

Instead of saying yes, the fair maid repressed another sigh.

'What, won't it, then?' he said.

'I suppose so,' she answered. 'If it is to be, it is.'

'Well said--very well said, my dear.'

'And if it isn't to be it isn't.'

'What? Who's been putting that into your head? Your grumpy granny,
I suppose. However, how is she? Margery, I have been thinking to-
day--in fact, I was thinking it yesterday and all the week--that
really we might settle our little business this summer.'

'This summer?' she repeated, with some dismay. 'But the partnership?
Remember it was not to be till after that was completed.'

'There I have you!' said he, taking the liberty to pat her shoulder,
and the further liberty of advancing his hand behind it to the other.
'The partnership is settled. 'Tis "Vine and Hayward, lime-burners,"
now, and "Richard Vine" no longer. Yes, Cousin Richard has settled
it so, for a time at least, and 'tis to be painted on the carts this
week--blue letters--yaller ground. I'll boss one of 'em, and drive