"It certainly looks like it," assented Mrs. Dexter. "He will be company

for you on your walks."

"Oh, may I have him?" cried Celia, delightedly. "I've fallen

passionately in love with him."

Mrs. Dexter assured her that Roddy, as well as everything in and about

the place, was at Celia's service, and, explaining that she was very

busy, hurried away. Immediately after breakfast Celia began her

delightful work, and for the next two or three days stuck to it so

persistently that Mrs. Dexter remonstrated.

"Oh, but you don't know how much I love it," pleaded Celia. "The moment

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I leave the library I want to get back to it. You see, I'm mad on books,

and this work of mine is a labour of love; the very touch of some of

these old volumes thrills me. And there are so many of them; sometimes I

feel that I shall never get through my task, if I live to be ninety."

"You'll soon look like ninety, my dear, if you don't take more

exercise," observed Mrs. Dexter, wisely. "I am sure his lordship would

be grieved if he knew you were working so hard. Now, come, take Roddy

and go for a long walk; or perhaps you would rather drive?"

Celia declared that she preferred a walk, and a little later she started

out, somewhat reluctantly, with Roddy close at her heels. It was a

delicious morning; the feeling of the coming summer was in the air, the

larks were singing joyously above the moorland, as if they, too, were

revelling in the bright sunlight, the clean, keen air, the scent of the

gorse with which it was perfumed. Celia could scarcely refrain from

singing; she walked quickly, and sometimes, to Roddy's delight, she ran

races with him. She came to the end of the moor at last, and swung down

to the high road, followed it for some time and presently came to two

cross-roads. She was hesitating which to take, when a small phaeton,

drawn by an Exmoor pony, came rolling towards her.

In the phaeton was an old lady with white hair and a pleasant

countenance; she had very sharp eyes and a smile that was a trifle

cynical. At sight of the young girl, with the brilliant eyes and the

healthily flushed cheeks, she stopped the pony and looked at Celia

curiously. Celia felt as if she must speak to everyone that morning, so

she went up to the tiny carriage and asked how far it was, by the road,

to Thexford Hall.




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