"Sometimes, lass," he said, "I think thou ought to hev towd Tom all; sometimes I don't. Wait a bit till that Serrol Mallow's gone again, and then tell him all. Hah! he's a nice 'un, and his brother too. They're gentlemen, they are. I'm on'y a rough shack. It mak's me laugh though, Polly, it do. I don't work, they say. Well, I don't see as they do, and as owd Bone used to mak' us read at school, nobody can't say as Jock Morrison, bad as he is, ever goes neighing after his neighbour's wife. Theer lass, theer lass, it's all put away, and I'm down glad as I was wrong." "And you will frighten him away, Jock?" said Polly, who looked very bright and pretty now. "That I will, Polly," said the great fellow, draining his mug; "and, my lass, I don't know but what Tom's reight to sattle down wi' such a pretty little lass as thou. Mebbe I shall be doing something of the sort myself. Good-bye, lass, good-bye." "When--when shall we see you again?" said Polly, in a timid way. "Don't know, my lass, but I may be close at hand when no one sees me. I'm a curus, hiding sort of a fellow. Theer, good-bye." He stooped and left the house, and Polly saw him go towards the workshop, stop talking for a few minutes, and then go slowly rolling along the lane. "I'm afraid Jock's after no good, Polly, my little woman," said Tom quietly that night. "Ah, well, there's worse fellows than he." "I like Jock better than ever I liked him before," cried Polly, with animation. "I wish you could like him into a better life," said Tom, thoughtfully. "I wonder where the poor old chap has gone." On a mission of his own. That very afternoon Cynthia had tempted her sister out of the solitude she so much affected now, by proposing a ride; for Lord Artingale had sent the horses over with a note saying that he had been called away to the county town, but would come over in the evening. Julia took some pressing, but she agreed at last, the horses were brought round, and soon after the sisters mounted, and were cantering along the pleasant sandy lanes, followed some fifty yards or so behind by a well-mounted groom. The sun shone brightly, and there was a deliciously fresh breeze, just sufficient to make the exercise enjoyable. The swift motion, with the breeze fanning her face, seemed to brighten Julia's eyes and send a flush into her cheeks, as they cantered on, Cynthia being full of merry remarks, and gladly noticing her sister's change. "Oh, if she would only pluck up a little spirit," thought Cynthia; and then she began to wonder whether Artingale would bring over Magnus. Then she began to make plans as to how she would bring them together, and leave them pretty often alone. One way and another, as they rode on and on, Miss Cynthia mentally proved herself a very female Von Moltke in the art of warfare, and so wrapt was she in her thoughts, that she paid no heed to the fidgeting of the beautiful creature she was riding.