Of course they did not want to stay in the house, so, accepting Mrs. Penruddock's invitation "Go just wherever you like", they started to explore the farm premises. Clumps of snowdrops were growing among the grass in the orchard under old apple trees, some of whose branches held boughs of mistletoe. Bulbs were pushing up in the garden, and the daphne mezereon was out already in the warm corner near the bee-hives. Through the stackyard flowed the stream which was such a feature of Chagmouth, and here its glittering, tumbling waters had been harnessed to turn a waterwheel that worked a churn, a turnip-cutter, and other farm implements. The wheel at present was still, and the girls could go quite close and examine it. It was a picturesque affair, yellow with lichen and moss, and with green ferns growing on the wall against which the water dripped. It was so utterly different from the unlovely, whirling, modern machinery to which they were accustomed in Whinburn that they climbed down the steep, narrow steps to get a nearer view. Birds were flitting hither and thither like dainty water nixies, great sprays of periwinkle trailed down the banks, and the stream danced by with a gurgling murmur as if it were trying to put some story into words. Mavis, standing on the lowest of the steps, and leaning against a blade of the waterwheel, threw sticks on to its bosom and watched them as they bobbed along on their way towards the sea. "Hello!" called a voice from above. "If you don't want to get knocked into the water you'd better come up. The wheel will be turning in another moment. We didn't know you were down there." The girls made a hurried ascent of the steps, and came scrambling up into the stackyard. The stream might have its attractions, but they had no wish to try a February bath in it. At the top, by the door of the churning-shed, stood a boy of perhaps sixteen, a dark, good-looking boy, with clear brown eyes that sparkled and twinkled like the dancing water below. He held out a strong hand and helped them up the last of the awkward steps. "Dr. Tremayne sent me to look for you," he volunteered, "and a hunt I've had. I thought you must have gone down the town. I wouldn't have found you, only I heard your voices. He's ready to start, and in two minds whether to set off without you or not." "Is he waiting? Oh, I'm so sorry! Where's the car? On the road by the front door? Can we cut across the orchard here? Oh, thanks! We won't be two seconds," and Mavis, scrambling over a fence, made a bee-line for the house in hot haste. "We'd no idea it was so late," added Merle, scurrying after her with only half a glance at the knight who had come to their rescue. The boy stood watching their race across the orchard with an amused look in his dark eyes, then he picked up a piece of rope and went away down the stackyard to the stables, whistling softly to himself as he walked.