I was as full of the joy of life as a healthy woman can be, whose church-going garments are two hundred miles away, and I filled my lungs again and again with the sweet moorland air as I sauntered leisurely up the village street. A delightful breeze was blowing from the west, and I knew that my hair would be all about my ears before I reached the church; but that was a small matter, for who was there to care or criticise? The village rested in the calm of the Sabbath: no sound of human voice or human feet disturbed its quiet. But the cocks crowed proudly from their elevated perches by the roadside, and the rooks cawed noisily in the sycamores as they saw their lofty homes rocked to and fro in the swell of the wind. I stood for a moment or two to watch the behaviour of the trees when Boreas, rude as ever, flung himself upon them. How irritable and angry they became! How they shook their branches and shrieked their defiance, trembling all the time through every stem and leaf! As I passed the entrance gate at the farther end of the Hall grounds a carriage was leaving it, and I caught sight of an old gentleman sitting alone within. I guessed him to be the owner of the place and dubbed him the Squire, and I was right, except as to the title, which I find he disavows. I must have dawdled away more time than I realised, for they were well on with the prayers when I entered the church, but I will guard against that in future, for I pride myself on my methodical and punctual habits. But hurrying makes one hot, and churches are often chilly, as this one was! I was glad when the service was over and I could get out into the sunshine again. The squire's carriage passed me on its homeward way soon after I had left the church, but when I reached the cross-roads I saw that its owner must have sent it forward and decided to continue the journey on foot, for he was standing at the bend of the lane in conversation with Farmer Goodenough. The latter smiled as I approached and half raised his cap; and the squire turned and saluted me with grave politeness. "Mornin', Miss 'Olden, mornin'," said my landlord. "So you've exchanged the 'eath for the 'assock, in a manner o' speakin'," and he laughed loudly at his alliterative success. "Well, well, some must pray an' some must work. 'There's a time for everything,' as t' Owd Book says; that's it, isn't it, sir, eh?" and without waiting for an answer Farmer Goodenough strode off. In a few seconds, however, he was back. "Excuse me, miss, but I should ha' made you two known to each other. Miss 'Olden, this is Mr. Evans of the 'All, an' this is my new tenant, sir; a lady from London, Miss 'Olden, who's taken the cottage for twelve months for a sort of a whim, as far as I can make out." He touched his cap, and turned on his heel once more.