Affairs were not very satisfactory at the farm, and Jessie's eyes more than once looked as if they had been red with crying. For the girl was greatly troubled at heart, since John Maine's behaviour puzzled her. It was impossible for anything of note to take place in Dumford, without the news of it reaching the farm, so that she soon heard that Daisy, her old friend and school-fellow, had disappeared; that the two rough fellows who had been hanging about were supposed to have had something to do with her disappearance; while, to make matters more complicated, John Maine had been seen talking to these two men, and had afterwards warned her about holding communication with Daisy. John Maine had always been civil and pleasant to Daisy. Daisy had more than once laughingly said she liked him. Now she was gone, John Maine's behaviour was very strange. Could he have had anything to do with getting her away, and was he in any way acting with Richard Glaire, whom some people suspected of complicity? No: she would not believe anything against him, come what might; but there was some secret connected with his earlier life that he kept back, and--she could not say why--she thought he ought to be more trusting and communicative with her. Not that there was anything between them, though she told herself she thought she did like John Maine--a little. Old Bultitude was very cross and snappish too, and he had taken it somewhat to heart that Daisy should have been the companion and friend of his Jessie. "See here, lass," he said, "thou must howd no more communication with that bairn o' Banks's. She's a bad un." "Oh, uncle!" exclaimed Jessie, "she may have been robbed and murdered." "Not she," said old Bultitude, filling his pipe and ramming the tobacco in viciously. "If she had been, they'd ha' fun her body. Folks don't rob and murder, unless it's to get money. Daisy Banks had no money wi' her; and, as to being jealous, I hardly think Tom Podmore, as she pitched over, would murder her--but there's no knowing." A few minutes later Eve Pelly arrived at the farm, looking pale and thin; and the two girls were soon telling each other their troubles, Eve with a quiet reticent manner; Jessie all eagerness to make the girl she looked upon as her superior the repository of her inmost thoughts. Eve took care not to let Jessie know that this was to be almost a formal leave-taking, for she had come down after asking Mrs Glaire's leave, and with the full intention of yielding to her wishes. The conversation naturally turned upon Daisy and her disappearance, when Jessie broke out impetuously with-- "Well, it's no use to keep it back, Miss Eve. I've known a deal more than I've cared to tell you, but your cousin and Daisy have for months past been thick as thick." "Don't speak like that, Jessie," cried Eve, flushing up.