'If I rang it, they might hear it down at Brow Farm.

They _might_--if the wind was that way.' There was silence a moment.

Then Fenwick stooped and kissed her.
'Poor old girl!' he said, softly.

She made but slight response.

He returned to his place, repeating with a frowning energy--'You must have some one to sleep here.' 'Daisy would come--if I'd pay her.' Daisy was their little servant of the summer, the daughter of a quarryman near by.
'Well, pay her!' She drew herself up sharply.