the great granite boulder in the shadow of the bridge, and take
one small foot in her hand with the evident intention of removing
her foot-gear and occupying the second tub.

The hot blood surged in responsive shame to Ralph Peden's cheeks
and temples. He started up. Meg Kissock was tramping the blankets
rhythmically, holding her green kirtle well up with both hands,
and singing with all her might. The goddess of the shining pails
was also happily unconscious, with her face to the running water.
Ralph bent low and hastened through a gap in the fence towards the
shade of the elder bushes on the slope. He did not run--he has
never acknowledged that; but he certainly came almost
indistinguishably near it. As soon, however, as he was really out
of sight, he actually did take to his heels and run in the
direction of the manse, disconcerted and demoralized.

The dogs completed his discomfiture, for they caught sight of his
flying figure and gave chase--contenting themselves, however, with
pausing on the hillside where Ralph had been lying, with indignant
barkings and militant tails high crested in air.

Winsome Charteris went up to the broom bushes which fringed the
slope to find out what was the matter with Tyke and Roger. When
she got there, a slim black figure was just vanishing round the
white bend of the Far Away Turn. Winsome whistled low this time,
and without putting even one finger into her mouth.