who seemed to be a leader among the others, holding out a pewter
tankard full and frothing over.

Robin Clifford smiled and put his lips to it.

"Just to your health, Landon!" he said--"I'm not a drinking man."

"Haymaking's thirsty work," commented the other. "Will Miss
Jocelyn do us the honour?"

The girl made a wry little face.

"I don't like beer, Mr. Landon," she said--"It's horrid stuff,
even when it's home-brewed! I help to make it, you see!"

She laughed gaily--they all laughed with her, and then there was a
little altercation which ended in her putting her lips to the
tankard just offered to Robin and sipping the merest fleck of its
foam. Landon watched her,--and as she returned the cup, put his
own mouth to the place hers had touched and drank the whole
draught off greedily. Robin did not see his action, but the girl
did, and a deep blush of offence suffused her cheeks. She rose, a
little nervously.

"I'll go in now," she said--"Dad must be alone by this time."

"All right!" And Robin jumped lightly from the top of the load to
the ground and put the ladder up for her to descend. She came down
daintily, turning her back to him so that the hem of her neat
white skirt fell like a little snowflake over each rung of the