"Yes--I had noticed _that_ for myself! I don't think Sylvia particularly likes it." "Then I imagine she can stop it without much outside help," said his father, somewhat ruefully. "Well, we must get to work, and not sit here talking all the rest of the afternoon--not that there's so very much afternoon left! What are you going to do next, Austin?" "Change my clothes, and then start burning the rubbish-pile--there's a good moon, so I can finish it after the milking's done." "That means you'll be up until midnight--and you were out in the barn at five!" exclaimed Mr. Gray. "I don't see where you get all your energy." "From ambition!" laughed Austin, starting away. "This is going to be the finest farm in the county again, if I have anything to do about it." As he entered the house, and went through the hall, he could hear voices in Sylvia's parlor, and though the door was ajar, he went past it, contrary to his custom. His father was right. If she did not like the minister's visits, she was quite competent to stop them without outside help. Was it possible--_could_ it be?--that she _did_ like them? He flung off his business clothes and got into his overalls with a sort of savage haste--after all, what difference ought it to make to him whether she liked them or not? She was going away almost immediately, would inevitably marry some one before very long, Mr. Jessup at least held a dignified position and possessed a good education, and if she married him, she would come back to Hamstead, they could see her once in a while--Having tried to comfort himself with these cheering reflections, he started down the stairs, inwardly cursing. Then he heard something which made him stop short. "Please go away," Sylvia was saying, in the low, penetrating voice he knew so well, "and I think it would be better if you didn't come any more. How dare you speak to me like that! And how can a clergyman so lose his sense of dignity as to behave like any common fortune-hunter?" Austin pushed open the door without stopping to knock, and walked in. "Good-afternoon, Mr. Jessup," he said coolly, "my father told me we were having the pleasure of a call from you. I'm just going out to milk--won't you come with me, and see the cattle? They're really a fine sight, tied up ready for the night." Mr. Jessup picked up his hat, and Austin held the door open for him to pass out, leaving Sylvia standing, an erect, scornful little black figure, with very red cheeks, her angry eyes growing rapidly soft as she looked straight past the minister at Austin.