The slight jerk was fatal, and the bough snapped clean off, leaving her in peril. She strove to cling to a stem too large for her grasp, and hung over the road, which lay far enough beneath to mean, if she fell, at the least broken bones. Three bounds carried him up the bank, and as she dropped, he caught her with outstretched arms. She was conscious at once of his rock-like strength and firmness. He set her on the bank, and holding her hand leaped down with her to the road. "You managed splendidly," was her first remark. "But I 'could' have got down alone." "I hope you might have been able—if I had not been here." "Of course I could." She hesitated. "No—perhaps not, when the bough broke. But if I had not seen you, I should have been off in time." He murmured an apology. "Of course it was not your fault, only everybody says I am too old for climbing trees. What a pity the nicest things in life are just what one ought not to do!" "Invariably?" "Very often. Did you say you were Giles Randolph—my cousin? How curious! So many years since we have met!" They stood face to face, each trying to make out the other. She noted with pleasure his powerful make, the strongly-knit frame, the sunburnt face and grave eyes. "I like him!" she said to herself. And he liked her, though he did not say so, even to himself. Despite the second-cousinship, he had not seen Phyllys since her childhood, and he had never been to Midfell. Intercourse between the Castle Hill folks and the two grand-daughters had been discouraged by the kind but strict old grandmother, and during late years Barbara had used her influence to stiffen the family separation. Phyllys was not what Giles had expected to find. Whether pretty or not might be a matter of opinion, but he thought her engaging. She was a trifle over middle height, lithe, and active. Her complexion was a pale brown, and the eyes were violet in hue, not large, but with thick black lashes, while the eyebrows were of a warm chestnut, matching the loosely-knotted hair. She had a trick of half closing her eyes, so that the upper and nether fringes all but met, and only a glimmer of blue crept through. "We want you to pay us a visit at Castle Hill." She flushed up. "Do you—really? That is what I have longed for. But Mrs. Keith—" "Mrs. Keith is as anxious as anybody." "Really!" in surprise. "But why? We are strangers." Giles felt the puzzle insoluble. "It isn't as if she and I were related," the girl added. "No, she is only a connection even of mine. But she acted the part of a mother for years, and Colin and I are brothers." "I should like to know Colin. Ought I to call him Mr. Keith? Everybody says Colin. How odd it was that Wiggles did not bark at you! He must have taken a fancy. I always say Wiggles is a reader of character." Her face broke into a smile, the eyelashes curling with mischief.