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 whole appearance, even in the way in which her colour slightly increased as she turned to him.

"I am only feeding the fowls, sir," she answered.

"And singing," he said.

"There's no work in that, sir," she replied.

"No, but I never heard you sing before—as you were going about the house, I mean," he said, scarcely knowing what was in his mind.

"I haven't sung for a long time," she said.

"Then I suppose you sing to-day because you feel light-hearted," said Hepworth. "Your song was a merry one, at any rate."

Elisabeth laughed. There was something in the sound that seemed to jar on Hepworth's mind; he looked more attentively at her, and found that over her face had come something of the hard expression with which he was already familiar.

"I don't know about light-hearted, sir," she said. "It's such a long time since I