“She mun ha’ been a leet-minded snicket not worth frettin’ arter,” pursued Jinny warmly. “An’ she can’t ha’ had a bit o’ sperrit neither. She ought to ha’ stood up to yo’ an’ showed yo’ yo’ was doin’ her no harm an’ yo’rself no good. If I’d ha’ bin in her shoes—” She stopped short, colouring again to the roots of her hair. “Set yo’ down again, do,” said Luke persuasively. “What ’ud yo’ ha’ done if yo’d been in her shoes, Jinny?” Jinny sat down, but for once in her life was dumbfounded; she did not dare raise her eyes to Luke’s face. “Theer’s no knowin’ what yo’ met ha’ done wi’ me if yo’d ha’ bin in Mary’s shoes,” he went on. “Yo’ve a wonderful manageable way wi’ yo’, Miss Whiteside.” “I don’t seem able to manage yo’ though,” said Jinny inconsequently. “I’ve had lodgers, a-mony of ’em, an’ I’ve took a interest in ’em all, an’ they allus did what I wanted—all of ’em, nobbut yo’. Yo’re the first as ever refused to do what I axed yo’.” “Coom,” cried Luke indignantly. “I’m sure I’ve gived in to yo’ more’n I’ve ever gived in to a wumman before. I’ve done all as yo’ axed me—nay, yo’ didn’t ax me, yo’ ordered me, an’ I’m not one as likes to be ordered by a wumman—but I gived in all but the one thing—I’ve gived yo’ my rayson for that.” “’Twasn’t no rayson at all,” said Jinny. “Coom now, Luke, yo’ owned up to me about that a minute ago. Coom, I’ll not order yo’ no more—I’ll ax yo’ gradely—happen yo’ll do it if I ax yo’ proper?” Her blue eyes were shining with eagerness, her lips were parted with an arch smile. “Happen I would,” admitted Luke. “Let’s hear yo’ do it.” “Well then Luke, ha’ done wi’ foolishness,” she said in her most persuasive tones. “Promise yo’ll coom to church same as any other Christian.” “That’s not axin’ me proper,” said Luke. “I care nowt at all about any other Christian. Say it this way, Jinny—‘Will yo’ coom to church wi’ me?’” “Will yo’ coom to church,” she began falteringly, and then broke off for Luke had seized her hand—“Whativer are yo’ drivin’ at?” “Theer, I’ll ax the question mysel’,” cried Luke. “Will _yo’_ go to church wi’ _me_, Jinny? If yo’ll gie me your promise, I’ll walk i’ your footsteps all my days, my dear.” Jinny presumably gave her promise, for when they presently emerged from the wood they were walking arm-in-arm. Whether he subsequently fulfilled his resolve of following meekly in her footsteps, is a moot point, for Luke was a person of strong individuality; but Jinny liked him none the less for that, and one thing is certain: she saw to it that he kept the rules of the house. LADY LUCY JOHN COTLEY closed his account-book—blotting the last entry carefully, for he was an orderly man—and laid it in its accustomed place in the drawer of his high desk. Then, rising from the tall stool on which he had been seated for an hour and more, he passed his hands across his brow, and looked through the mullioned window at the fast darkening landscape.