Reddin, not having a watchful eye or an attentive ear for such things, was not conscious of anything but a sense of loneliness. He read the paper indefatigably. In an hour or so Edward and Hazel came out again, she in her new white hat. They went up God's Little Mountain where it sloped away in pale green illuminated vistas till it reached the dark blue sky. They disappeared on the skyline, and Reddin impatiently composed himself for more waiting. Was he never to get a chance of seeing Hazel alone? 'That fellow dogs her steps,' he said. The transfigured slopes of the mountain were, it seemed to Edward, a suitable place for a thing he wished to tell Hazel. 'Hazel,' he said, 'if you ever feel that you would rather have a husband than a brother, you have only to say so.' Hazel flushed. Although it was such a muted passion that sounded in his voice, it stirred her. Since she had known Reddin, her ignorance had come to recognize the sound of it, and she had also begun to flush easily. If Edward had understood women better, he would have seen that this speech of his was a mistake; for even if a woman knows whether she wishes for a husband, she will never tell him so. They turned home in a constrained silence. Foxy, frightened by a covey of partridges, created a diversion by pulling her cord from Hazel's inattentive hand and setting off for the parsonage. 'Oh! she'll be bound to go to the woods!' cried Hazel, beginning to run. 'Do 'ee see if she's in tub, Ed'ard, and I'll go under the trees and holla.' Reddin was startled when he saw Hazel, who had out-distanced Edward, making straight for his hiding-place. She came running between the boles with an easy grace, an independence that drove him frantic. A pretty woman should not have that easy grace; she should have exchanged it for a matronly bearing by this time, and independence should have yielded to subservience--to the male, to him. With her vivid hair and eyes and her swift slenderness, Hazel had a fawn-like air as she traversed the wavering shadows. She passed his tree without seeing him, and stood listening. Then she began to plead with the truant. 'What for did you run away, Foxy, my dear? Where be you? Come back along with me, dear 'eart, for it draws to night!' Reddin stepped from his tree and spoke to her. With a stifled scream she turned to run away, but he intercepted her. 'No. I've waited long enough for this. So you're married to the parson, after all?' 'Ah.' 'You'll be sorry.' 'What for do you come tormenting of me, Mr. Reddin?' 'You were meant for me. You're mine.' 'Folk allus says I'm theirs. I'd liefer be mine.' 'As you wouldn't marry me, Hazel, the least you can do is to come and talk to me sometimes.' 'Oh, I canna!' 'You must. Any spare time come to this tree. I shall generally be here.' 'But why ever? And you a squire with a big place and fine ladies after you!' 'Because I choose.'