So they stood for a few moments, and a year of happiness was in them; and then John remembered! If it had happened yesterday he would have poured forth his love in a torrent of words, and asked her at once to be his wife; but now he must not, for stern duty forbade. As for Margaret, she had not forgotten; and though, for an instant, her heart sank with dismay lest he had read the truth, she soon recovered herself, and helped him to do the same. But all the pain went from him, and when he turned and walked back with her, and the sweet summer sun kissed them both, while the birds sang as if in sympathy with their joy, he felt strong enough and brave enough to do everything. And he took her at once into his confidence. Every one else did the same; it was wonderful how many secrets of sorrow had been given to Margaret to keep, young as she was; but it was no wonder that Dallington felt the comfort and strength of her sympathy. It was not news to Margaret that John Dallington was not a rich man, for in a little place like Darentdale few things are altogether hidden, and she could not feel as sorry for his pain as she was glad to learn in what the chief pain consisted. “I was hoping,” he said, “that there might not be a really poor person on my estate. I meant every man to have a chance—and every woman, too. The cottages need rebuilding badly, and the labourers ought to have some share in the land; but what am I to do now?” “It would not make much difference to your income,” said Margaret, gently, “if you gave them half of one of your meadows as allotments or gardens; and that would probably furnish each of your labourers with a strip of ground. Even if they had it rent free you would not lose very much; but if you let them have it for the value of the grass it would not cost them much either. It is too bad of those farmers who charge the men higher rents for small pieces than they would get for the larger ones.” John Dallington saw his way at once. “To be sure, I can do that,” he said. “I intended to put a garden to each cottage; but it does not matter where it is, and I have a field that will do for that purpose exactly.” “And you have a stone quarry. Why not allow your men to use your stone, and enlarge or rebuild their own cottages? Labour is even more costly than materials, and you might save that if you could induce the men to do the work themselves. But I expect you would have to grant them leases, unless they trust you more than they do most masters, so that they could have no fear or possibility of being turned out of the places they had renovated.” John thought it was beautiful of her to be so much interested; and was she not as sensible as she was good? Then they talked together of old times, and every care vanished from them both. “I shall see you to-morrow,” he said, as they parted. “I am going to Miss Wythburn’s wedding.”