A fortnight later, Blake met Millicent in a fieldpath and turned back with her to Hazlehurst. It was a raw day and the wind had brought a fine color into the girl’s face, and she wore a little fur cap and fur-trimmed jacket which he thought became her very well.
“You have not been over often,” she said; “Mr. Foster was remarking about it.”
Blake had kept away for fear of his resolution melting if he saw much of her.
“My uncle seems to think he has a prior claim,” he explained; “and I may not be able to stay with him long.”
“You are going back to Canada?” The quick way the girl looked up, and something in her tone, suggested unpleasant surprise, for she had been taken off her guard.
“I shall have to go when Harding needs me. I haven’t heard from him since I arrived, but I’ll get my sum
