“Yes.” “And such a manly fellow--any girl might like him,” said Kate. “Indeed, yes,” said Philip. There was silence again, and two pigs which had been snoring on the manure heap outside began to snort their way home. Kate turned her head so that the crown of the sun-bonnet was toward Phillip, and said-- “Oh, dear! Can there be anything so terrible as marrying somebody you don't care for?” “Nothing so bad,” said Philip. The mouth of the sun-bonnet came round. “Yes, there's one thing worse, Philip.” “No?” “Not having married somebody you do,” said Kate, and the milk rattled like hail. In the straw behind. Kate there was a tailless Manx cat with three tailed kittens, and Philip began to play with them. Being back to back with Kate, he could keep his countenance. “This old Horney is terrible for switching,” said Kate, over her shoulder. “Don't you think you could hold her tail?” That brought them face to face again. “It's so sweet to have some one to talk to about Pete,” said Kate. “Yes?” “I don't know how I could bear his long absence but for that.” “Are you longing so much, Kate?” “Oh, no, not longing--not to say longing. Only you can't think what it is to be... have you never been yourself, Philip?” “What?” “Hold it tight... in love? No?” “Well,” said Philip, speaking at the crown of the sun-bonnet. “Ha! ha! well, not properly perhaps--I don't--I can hardly say, Kate.” “There! You've let it go, after all, and she's covered me with the milk! But I'm finished, anyway.” Kate was suddenly radiant. She kissed Horney, and hugged her calf in the adjoining stall; and as they crossed the haggard, Philip carrying the pail, she scattered great handfuls of oats to a cock and his two hens as they cackled their way to roost. “You'll be sure to come again soon, Philip, eh? It's so sweet to have some one to remind me of----” but Pete's name choked her now. “Not that I'm likely to forget him--now is that likely? But it's such a weary time to be left alone, and a girl gets longing. Did I now? Give me the milk, then. Did I say I wasn't? Well, you can't expect a girl to be _always_ reasonable.” “Good-bye, Kate.” “Yes, you had better go now--good-bye.” Philip went away in pain, yet in delight, with a delicious thrill, and a sense of stifling hypocrisy. He had felt like a fool. Kate must have thought him one. But better she should think him a fool than a traitor. It was all his fault. Only for him the girl would have been walled round by her love for Pete. He would come no more. IX. Philip held to his resolution for three months, and grew thin and pale. Then another letter came from Pete--a letter for himself, and he wondered what to do with it. To send it by post, pretending to be ill again, would be hypocrisy he could not support. He took it.