She smiled at him. She had given an involuntary start when she heard his name, but quickly recovered her equanimity. "Thank you for the wish," she said; then, turning to Anstice, she asked if there was any house within her reach where she could rest. Anstice considered. "I think there is a small farm round the corner, about a quarter of an hour's climb from here." "I can't do it," she said with a little impatient sigh; "I must just wait till my man comes back. You might sit down and enliven my solitude, if you can spare the time. We are strangers, but it is a lovely afternoon. It is the loneliness that I dislike so much." Anstice was quite willing to oblige, and Ruffie's pony was only too ready to rest. She took the little boy off his pony into her lap, and he, as well as she, talked to this strange lady of the Fells which they loved so much. The stranger did not give her name, and asked no more personal questions. But presently Anstice said: "I really think the quickest way will be to send off some one to get a car to drive you home. Would you like me to walk on to the farm above us, or do you think your chauffeur will have sent already?" "He is too stupid to do that," said the lady irritably; "I told him to get some men to come and mend my car. That is all he will think about. The car is the first thought in his mind, not his mistress." "Then I will go to the farm and send some one off to the inn at Stapp. That is the nearest place where they keep cars. Do you mind taking care of this little boy? I shall not be long." "Thank you. Perhaps that is the best thing to do." The afternoon was warm and sunny. Anstice took the cushions out of Ruffie's basket chair, and made a "nest" for him, as she called it, upon the ground close to the stranger. Then she tethered his pony to a stout mountain ash, close by. "Now, Ruffie, you're a little gentleman, and you must take care of this lady till I come back," she said to the child when she had settled him comfortably amongst his cushions, and wrapped a warm shawl round his legs. Ruffie held up his head gallantly. This was after his own heart. No shyness was in his composition, and when Anstice had left them, he turned to the stranger with his most angelic smile. "I could spare you the littlest of my cushions if you would like to lean your head against it." She smiled at him. "No, thank you. I wouldn't take one of your cushions for all the world. Who is that lady? Your governess?"