“I 'm sure I hope it 's not the last time we 'll meet, miss; but maybe,”--she faltered, and a heavy tear burst forth, and rolled slowly along her cheek,--“maybe you oughtn't to come and see me.” Kate pressed her hand affectionately, without speaking, and they parted. “Is Joan gone?” asked Massingbred, raising his head from an attitude of deep revery. “When did she leave us?” “There she goes yonder,” said Kate, pointing. “I fear me her spirits are not as light as her footsteps. Are her people very poor?” “Her father was a herd, I believe,” said he, carelessly; “but she does n't live at home.” “Is she married, then?” “I 'm not sure that she is; but at least she believes that she is.” “Poor thing!” said Kate, calmly, while, folding her arms, she continued to gaze after the departing figure of the country girl. “Poor thing!” repeated she once more, and turned to walk homewards. Massingbred fixed his eyes upon her keenly as she uttered the words; few and simple as they were, they seemed to reveal to him something of the nature of her who spoke them. A mere exclamation--a syllable--will sometimes convey “whole worlds of secret thought and feeling,” and it was evidently thus that Massingbred interpreted this brief expression. “There was nothing of scorn in that pity,” thought he. “I wish she had uttered even one word more! She is a strange creature!” And it was thus speaking to himself that he walked along at her side. “This wild and desolate scene is not very like that of which we talked the other night,--when first we met,--Miss Henderson.” “You forget that we never met,” said she, calmly. “True, and yet there was a link between us even in those few flowers thrown at random.” “Don't be romantic, Mr. Massingbred; do not, I pray you,” said she, smiling faintly. “You _know_ it's not your style, while it would be utterly thrown away upon _me_, I am aware that fine gentlemen of your stamp deem this the fitting tone to assume towards 'the governess;' but I 'm really unworthy of it.” “What a strange girl you are!” said he, half thinking aloud. “On the contrary, how very commonplace!” said she, hastily. “Do you like this country?” asked Massingbred, with an imitation of her own abrupt manner. “No,” said she, shortly. “Nor the people?” “Nor the people!” was the answer. “And is your life to be passed amongst them?” “Perhaps,” said she, with a slight gesture of her shoulders. “Don't you know, Mr. Massingbred,” added she, with more energy, “that a woman has no more power to shape her destiny than a leaf has to choose where it will fall? If I were a man,--you, for instance,--I would think and act differently.” “I should like to hear what you would do if in my place,” said Jack, with a degree of deep interest in the remark. “To begin, I'll tell you what I would not do,” said she, firmly. “I 'd not waste very good abilities on very small objects; I 'd neither have small ambitions nor small animosities. You have both.”