She was quite assured that she would never see him again. Does it?” “I think it does. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations. And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. " "I'll not forget it.
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