“Yes, sir--for you. He says there’s something awful coming along, and you’re responsible for it. Says if he can only get the Almighty to listen to reason, He’ll happen let you off and give you another chance. So he goes to church every day, motor-machine, bettremer clothes an’ all!” Lanty scrambled over, and sat down with a bump and a laugh. It was difficult to take any theory seriously that included a vision of Brack, pale-gray suit, Trilby and S.-F., waving wild arms in supplication before the Lord. “Seems to me Brack must have collected a germ or two on the other side of the pond! He’s a queer specimen. Well, I’m grateful for anybody’s prayers. Who knows? Brack’s may do me a good turn yet!” Over the sand, he went to Pippin Hall for his horse. Uncle Willie was in the yard, and walked with him for some distance along the dyked road. He remembered afterwards how many people seemed to have stopped and held him, as if loth to let him go, on that last journey round the banks. “I suppose you’ll be over at this feed to-morrow night, you and your lads?” he inquired--“Mr. Shaw’s hotpot supper at the ‘Duke.’” “Ay, we’ll happen show up. T’ element’s quiet enough at present.” He cast a keen look over the sky, and then the deep-set eyes twinkled, dropping to Lanty’s face. “They seem a likely sort, the new folk over at Watters. They do say as you’re looking round there, Mr. Lancaster. Time you got wed an’ all!” Lanty laughed as he mounted. “Oh, they’ve had me fixed up more often than I could count, but it’s never come off yet! I’m over-throng for that kind of thing, with the Government setting me a different sort of sum every other week. The estate’s my wife. I’ll never have any other.” But, as he rode away, he knew that the real reason had been left unspoken. True, the estate had the whole of his heart at present, but it had not yet claimed all his dreams. The Lady that had walked between his box-borders was not forgotten, though still yet to be found. The shadows would have to lengthen further before he ceased to hope. He would have no half-gods, this blunt, absorbed business-man of the land. Thorough as he was in every detail of his work, he carried the same demand for perfection even to his private, human joy. It had always been said of the Lancasters that they would have the best--the best stuff, the best workmen, the best methods, no matter at what cost. And the last Lancaster of all added that, in little things like love and marriage, he would also have the best--or go wanting them.