hurry--and hid the objects of my admiration as an act of homage to
myself! Her verbal apologies followed.

"You used to be such a sweet-spoken pretty little boy," she said, "how
should I know you again, with a big voice and all that hair on your
face?" It seemed to strike her on a sudden that she had been too
familiar. "Oh, Lord," I heard her say to herself, "half the county
belongs to him!" She tried another apology, and hit this time on the
conventional form. "I beg your pardon, sir. Welcome back to your own
country, sir. I wish you good-night, sir."

She attempted to escape into the cottage; I followed her to the threshold
of the door. "Surely it's not time to go to bed yet," I ventured to say.

She was still on her good behavior to her landlord. "Not if you object to
it, sir," she answered.

This recognition of my authority was irresistible. Cristel had laid me
under an obligation to her good influence for which I felt sincerely
grateful--she had made me laugh, for the first time since my return to
England.

"We needn't say good-night just yet," I suggested; "I want to hear a
little more about you. Shall I come in?"

She stepped out of the doorway even more rapidly than she had stepped
into it. I might have been mistaken, but I thought Cristel seemed to be
actually alarmed by my proposal. We walked up and down the river-bank. On
every occasion when we approached the cottage, I detected her in stealing
a look at the ugly modern part of it. There could be no mistake this