"Leave ’er go," rumbled Leadville in his compelling bass and she was off on the wings of happy service. He stared resentfully after the flying figure. "What’s she doin’ ’ere?" Gray’s heart was aflutter. "I miss the children so." His eyes grew tender. "You do want a nest of your own, my bird. I can see you in it, a li’l place away from ’ere." She shook her head, repudiating the idea with courage born of her sister’s nearness. "I don’t want never to leave Trevorrick and mammy, and any of them." "You’d ’av so much of your own things to think about," he murmured, his mind full of the nest he would build for her, "you wouldn’t ’av time to think upon ’ome." Before she could answer, Leonora was back. "’Tis you auntie want, Gray." Suspicion flamed in Leadville’s eye. "If they’re schemin’ to come between us," he said angrily, "they’d better look out. Don’t you go, Gray." But the girl, running on light feet down the long dark passage, was glad to escape. When Uncle Leadville looked at her like that, she had ever a fluttered feeling that she must run away, or something, she knew not what, but something terrible, would happen. Instinct was warning her, instinct that is wiser even than experience and Leadville might sit on in the kitchen, waiting and waiting, but until he was gone, Gray would not return. *CHAPTER VII* The year ran mildly down to Christmas, but the wind with its tang of cold did not fling a rose into Gray’s cheek or buffet her into keener life and, when again the friends met in council, it was to discuss changes which both saw to be necessary. "Jim’s taking the cart into Stowe, week before Christmas," said Mrs. Byron when they had talked the matter over, "to bring ’ome some coals and flour. P’raps that day’ll suit Gray?" "Well, I’ll talk to ’er and see what she got to say." "Very well then, Friday before Christmas." "And you’ll ’av Richbell till you see ’ow things turn out?" "Iss. She growin’ to a fine maid. They’m all pretty but Richbell’s got the best colour. ’Tis lovely an’ I don’t wonder the boys is maäze about ’er. Still," she sighed, "give me Gray." "We all know Gray’s the favourite here," smiled Mrs. Tom, sticking her needles into the stocking she was knitting and looking round for her cloak. "Well, I think we’m doing the best we can, seein’ Leadville’s so teasy." "He’ll settle down right enough now. ’Tedn’t as if ’e was a young man. When ’e do realize ’e’s out of the running, ’e’ll take it quiet and we’ll be all comfortable again." "Well, my dear, I hope we shall. It ’as been a draggin’ time for ’ee since you was laid up." "’Tis funny," said Sabina, "’ow you think ’Now that’s over and done with,’ but ’tedn’t. I thought ’Once I’m out of ’ospital I’ll soon put things to rights,’ but I ’aven’t done it yet." "Takes time, my dear." "Iss, and time’s life."