turned slowly and faced the three persons looking at her. “Do you think it impossible for a man to love me for myself? You are not flattering, dear doctor.” Miss Ley thought Bertha certainly very bold thus to challenge the criticism of two women, both unmarried; but she silenced it. Miss Ley’s eyes went from the statuesque neck to the arms as finely formed, and to the figure. “You’re looking your best, my dear,” she said, with a smile. The doctor uttered an expression of annoyance: “Can you do nothing to hinder this madness, Miss Ley?” “My dear Dr. Ramsay, I have trouble enough in arranging my own life; do not ask me to interfere with other people’s.” Chapter VI Bertha surrendered herself completely to the enjoyment of her love. Her sanguine temperament never allowed her to do anything half-heartedly, and she took no care now to conceal her feelings; love was a great sea into which she boldly plunged, uncaring whether she would swim or sink. “I am such a fool,” she told Craddock, “I can’t realise that any one has loved before. I feel that the world is only now beginning.” She hated any separation from him. In the morning she existed for nothing but her lover’s visit at luncheon time, and the walk back with him to his farm; then the afternoon seemed endless, and she counted the hours that must pass before she saw him again. But what bliss it was when, after his work was over, he arrived, and they sat side by side near the fire, talking; Bertha would have no other light than the fitful flaming of the coals, so that, but for the little space where they sat, the room was dark, and the redness of the fire threw on Edward’s face a glow and weird shadows. She loved to look at him, at his clean-cut features, and into his grey eyes. Then her passion knew no restraint. “Shut your eyes,” she whispered, and she kissed the closed lids; she passed her lips slowly over his lips, and the soft contact made her shudder and laugh. She buried her face in his clothes, inhaling those masterful scents of the countryside which had always fascinated her. “What have you been doing to-day, my dearest?” “Oh, there’s nothing much going on the farm just now. We’ve just been ploughing and root-carting.”