For now the two young travellers had arrived at the foot of the last green slope, and between them and the farm copse brawled the noisy river, higher now, and more turbulent in its course, than when Primrose had crossed with light foot some few hours earlier. Master Vere sprang lightly upon the first slippery stone, and Primrose taking his offered hand, they jumped from boulder to boulder with much merriment, ever and again but narrowly escaping a headlong tumble into the foaming stream; and being after all but youthful, if withal a reverend and learned chaplain, what wonder if Percival hesitated one brief moment on the farther shore ere he released those clinging slender fingers! They walked silently through the copse to the farmhouse, each conscious of a strange new thrill unfelt before in either heart, and Primrose repaired to Lady Bryn Afon's chamber with a sense as of some sudden new life within her, which gave greater lightness to her step, and more glowing brightness to her radiant eyes. The two ladies took their midday meal together; and afterwards, Lady Bryn Afon being still fatigued with her journey, she lay on her sofa idly, while Primrose amused her by recounting her morning's adventure; and in the cool of the evening they sat together in the shady copse awhile, at the edge of the streamlet, and the young girl brought out her beloved harp, and discoursed sweet music to the gentle accompaniment of the rippling brook. [Illustration: "PRIMROSE TAKING HIS OFFERED HAND, THEY JUMPED FROM BOULDER TO BOULDER WITH MUCH MERRIMENT."]