She did not inquire what other things, for she had seen him walking

with Grace Melbury. She looked towards the western sky, which was now

aglow like some vast foundery wherein new worlds were being cast.

Across it the bare bough of a tree stretched horizontally, revealing

every twig against the red, and showing in dark profile every beck and

movement of three pheasants that were settling themselves down on it in

a row to roost.

"It will be fine to-morrow," said Marty, observing them with the

vermilion light of the sun in the pupils of her eyes, "for they are

a-croupied down nearly at the end of the bough. If it were going to be

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stormy they'd squeeze close to the trunk. The weather is almost all

they have to think of, isn't it, Mr. Winterborne? and so they must be

lighter-hearted than we."

"I dare say they are," said Winterborne.

Before taking a single step in the preparations, Winterborne, with no

great hopes, went across that evening to the timber-merchant's to

ascertain if Grace and her parents would honor him with their presence.

Having first to set his nightly gins in the garden, to catch the

rabbits that ate his winter-greens, his call was delayed till just

after the rising of the moon, whose rays reached the Hintock houses but

fitfully as yet, on account of the trees. Melbury was crossing his yard

on his way to call on some one at the larger village, but he readily

turned and walked up and down the path with the young man.

Giles, in his self-deprecatory sense of living on a much smaller scale

than the Melburys did, would not for the world imply that his

invitation was to a gathering of any importance. So he put it in the

mild form of "Can you come in for an hour, when you have done business,

the day after to-morrow; and Mrs. and Miss Melbury, if they have

nothing more pressing to do?"

Melbury would give no answer at once. "No, I can't tell you to-day,"

he said. "I must talk it over with the women. As far as I am

concerned, my dear Giles, you know I'll come with pleasure. But how do

I know what Grace's notions may be? You see, she has been away among

cultivated folks a good while; and now this acquaintance with Mrs.

Charmond--Well, I'll ask her. I can say no more."

When Winterborne was gone the timber-merchant went on his way. He knew

very well that Grace, whatever her own feelings, would either go or not

go, according as he suggested; and his instinct was, for the moment, to

suggest the negative. His errand took him past the church, and the way

to his destination was either across the church-yard or along-side it,

the distances being the same. For some reason or other he chose the

former way.




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