After tea and a chat with the farmer and his wife, she spoke of return. "I should like to stay for hours," she said, "if it were only to see the cows 'provened.'" She loved to use local colloquialisms, and the old man chuckled, pleased with her pretty ways. "Oh, and I must go along the fother'em and take a look at the stalls. Have you any calves?—Any stirks? You see, I know all about it!"—merrily. At length she was off; and rather by a mechanical movement, than of intent, she turned towards the moor, carrying over one shoulder the heavy shawl. Not till on the lower slopes of the fell did she note how heavy was the grey pall that hid the heights. As yet she approached only its dragging fringes, but she had to ascend, and it was getting on for five o'clock. The fog would thicken as evening advanced. But, as Giles had said, she was not easily frightened. She found the shawl heavy; and she would have to go all the way back to the farm before beginning the long round by the road. She had only to keep to the track. When she reached the other side, descending towards Midfell, she would soon leave fog behind. "Shall we go on, Wiggles?" she asked. "It looks rather horrid up there. But turning back would be still more horrid. Shall we make a dash for it?" Wiggles wagged his tail. "Ready for anything, are you not, you old dear? I'll try!" And she murmured, touching in turn each coat-button, "Will go!—Won't go!—Will go!—Won't go!" Till the last was reached. "The 'will' has it. Come along." Having decided, she pressed forward, and was surprised to find how much farther the way seemed in these conditions than in sunlight. Still, she was on the path, and she was all right. The fog at first was not so dense as when, later, Giles retraced his steps, but it was dense enough to be unpleasant; and more than once she regretted not having chosen the road. She met no human being, and heard no voice. Dim outlines of bushes dawned as she walked, and disappeared again. She advanced at a good pace; and presently, growing used to the gloom, she fell into a muse upon the coming joys of Castle Hill. Giles would be there; and to know more of Giles would be charming. She liked him. He was just the sort of friend she wanted; caring for the things she cared for; ready to hear, prompt to understand. Then there would be Mrs. Keith and Colin. She might not like the latter so much as Giles; still the fact that Giles thought much of Colin proved that there was good in him. About Mrs. Keith she was doubtful. Giles had been reserved; but she had detected a something in his manner which suggested lack of admiration. However, since Mrs. Keith had wanted Phyllys to go to Castle Hill, she would be grateful.