She threw herself into a chair on the other side of the hearth, and with a tired movement clasped her hands above her head, an action which displayed the curves of her pretty arms, whose beauty did not require any ornament. Nat stole a glance at her, and then bent his head that he might go on industriously with his work--he liked to indulge himself with these fitful glances, and then feel the hot blood mounting in his face. A lad of seventeen, brought up with austerity, without much love for the amusements of his kind, and yet swayed by all the varying, confused emotions which accompany the perilous age when manhood dawns--it was scarcely possible that he should not be excited by evenings spent in such strange companionship. Where was the harm? he had told his mother that he was working for Miss Gillan, and she had not refused her permission or in any way hindered him--he was only confused because Miss Gillan was herself so strange, not like a lady, not like a village-girl, so that the natural awe which he would have experienced in her presence was mingled with a sensation of familiarity. He did not ask himself, as an older man might have done, for what reason she chose to unbend so much to him; he did not think of inquiring into the future to learn the result of such companionship. At the moment the wine of life is at our lips our future head-aches do not concern us much. And yet, of late, as one half-waked from a dream, poor Nat had been possessed with an uneasy, haunted feeling, which scarcely, even now, amounted to compunction, but which still could render him dissatisfied. He was not indeed able to gauge the skill of the questions by which Tina drew from him the information she required; but it had now become often possible for him to wish that he had not said so much to her. For he had told her about his home and his mother, his sister’s beauty and the lovers it had won; about the Squire too, and his friendship with Mr Lee, and the correspondence Mr Lee maintained with him. It was on this last subject that Miss Gillan was chiefly interested; and Nat had some facility for giving her information, for of late he had been much employed by the Squire, and had continually brought him letters from the town. The questions of Miss Gillan were so simple, and appeared so natural, that for a long time the lad had replied to them carelessly; and it had not occurred to him that, as a servant, he had no right, even in small matters, to betray his master. That doubt, however, having once become aroused, would not allow him to be at peace again; for his mother had trained him to be fastidiously upright, and his present conduct was at variance with his training. He could tell himself indeed that he had done no harm, had revealed no secret that was worthy of the name; but still he was vexed, uneasy, unsatisfied, and at night tossed restlessly, wakeful and feverish. And now, this very evening, he had made fresh promises .... but then he would never