Kate made no reply, but averted her face. Ten minutes later, nevertheless, Zerah felt again that the eyes were on her, studying her features, her expression, noting everything about her, seeming to probe her mind and search out every thought that passed in her head. “Really, if this is going on, I cannot stay,” she said, rose and folded up the sheet she was hemming. “There’s such a thing as manners. I hate to be looked at--it is as if slugs were crawling over me.” As Zerah descended, she muttered, “The girl is certainly born without a heart. I would have kissed her but that she turned from me. I wish the parson had seen that!” The weather changed, the edge was taken off the east wind, the sun had gained power. The rooks were in excitement repairing their nests and wasting sticks about the ground under the trees, making a mess and disorder of untidiness. The labourers begged a day from their masters, that they might set their potatoes; after work hours on the farms they were busy in their gardens. In spring the sap of health rises in young arteries as in plants, and Kate recovered, not perhaps rapidly, but nevertheless steadily. She continued to be pale, with eyes preternaturally large. She was able to leave her chamber, and after a day or two assist in light housework. CHAPTER X THE NEW SCHOOLMASTER One day, when her uncle was at home busy about his accounts, which engaged him frequently without greatly enlightening him, but serving rather to involve his mind in confusion, Kate was assisting her aunt in preparing for the early dinner, when a tap at the door announced a caller. Pasco shouted to the person outside to come in, and a young man entered--tall, with fair hair, and clear, steady grey eyes. “I am the new schoolmaster,” said he frankly. “I have thought it my duty to come and see you, as you are church-warden and one of the managers of the National School.” “Quite right; sit down. I have been busy. I am a man of the commercial world. This is our meal-time. I am disengaged from my accounts; you can sit and eat, and we will converse whilst eating.” Mrs. Pepperill entered, and her hard eye rested on the young man. “The new schoolmaster,” she said. “Do you come from these parts?” “No; I am a stranger to this portion of England.” “That’s a misfortune. If you could be born again, and in the west country, it would be a mercy for you. From where do you come?” “From Hampshire.” “That’s right up in the north.” The schoolmaster raised his eyebrows. “Of course--in the south of England.” “It doesn’t follow,” said Zerah; “by your speech I took you to be foreign.” “And what may your name be,” said Pasco, “if I may be so bold as to ask? I have heard it, but it sounded French, and I couldn’t recollect it.” “My name is very English--Walter Bramber.”