Stafford apparently did not hear her, for, exerting all his strength,

he lifted the big stone and gradually slid and hoisted it into its

place. Then he attacked the other two, and with a still greater effort

raised them into a line with their fellows.

Ida watched him as--well, as one watches some "strong man" going

through his performance.

It was a well-nigh incredible feat, and she held her breath as one

stone followed the other. It seemed to her incredible and impossible,

because Stafford's figure was slight and graceful, and he performed the

feat with the apparent ease which he had learnt in the 'varsity

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athletic sports.

The colour rose to her face and her heart beat quickly. There is one

thing left for women to worship; and they worship it readily--and that

is strength. Stafford could not count sheep--any woman could do

that--but he could do what no woman could do: lift those great stones

into their places.

So that, as he waded out of the river, she smiled _on_ him instead of

_at_ him--which is a very different thing--as she said: "How strong you must be! I should have thought it would have required

two or three men to lift those stones."

"Oh, it's easy enough, as easy as--counting sheep when you know how."

She laughed.

"But you must be very wet," she said, glancing at the water as it

dripped from his clothes.

"Oh, it's all in the day's work," he said, cheerfully, more than

cheerfully, happily. "Now for the steers."

"They're in the dale," she said; and she looked at him as she spoke

with a new interest, with the interest a woman feels in the presence of

her master, of the man who can move mountains.

He shook the water from him and rode at her side more cheerfully than

he had done hitherto, for he had, so to speak, proved his helpfulness.

He might be an idiot, but he could lift weir stones into their place.

"There they are," she said. "And, oh, dear! One of them has got loose.

There ought to be fourteen and there are only thirteen!"

"Good heavens! You must have eyes like a hawk's"

She laughed. "Oh, no; I'm used to it, that is all. Now, where can it

be? I thought all the fences were mended. I must find it!"

"Stop!" he said. "At any rate, I can find a cow--bullock--steer. Let me

go. You wait here."

He rode off as he spoke, and she pulled up the big chestnut and looked

after him. Once more the question rose to perplex her: why had he come,

why was he riding about the dale with her, counting sheep, wading in

the stream, lifting weir stones, and herding cattle? It seemed to be so

strange, so inexplicable. And as she followed him with her eyes, his

grace and strength were impressed upon her, and she dwelt upon them

dreamily. Were there many such men in the world of which she knew so

little, or was he one alone, and unique? And how good, how pleasant it

was to have him with her, to talk to her, to help her! She had often

longed for a brother, and had pictured one like this, strong and

handsome, with frank eyes and smiling lips--someone upon whom she could

lean, to whom she could go when she was in trouble.




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