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 she deserved. instead, he listened to what was going on in the kitchen. He could hear gurgling moans, then a splash of water, splutterings, and Phœbe's voice—"She'll kill me. Oh, take me away! Take me away!"

Then Snailem's voice came—"Another spell like that and I wouldn't give a brass fardin' fur her."

"Are ye better, my dear?" from Hugh.

"Ay. But keep her offen me."

Derek listened, pale and disturbed. He would lock Fawnie up, sooner than let Hugh and Phœbe go. After a bit Hugh rapped at the door, and, at Derek's bidding, entered.

"We're off, sir," he said. "We'll bide here in this house no longer."

"Hugh," said Derek, quietly, "You don't know what you're saying. Phœbe has got you excited. She'll be herself again shortly."

"No," replied Hugh, doggedly. "We're quittin'. I saw an advairtissment in the paper yesterday for man and wife on a farm in the Saskatchewan. We'll get married and go straight out there. If it's no that job it'll be anither. I've had the West in mind for some time. This is no place for Phœbe. Mrs. Vale is always after her."

"Think it over, Hugh. You'll feel different to-morrowtomorrow [sic]."

"I'll no!" shouted Hugh. "We want our wage, and we're quittin'!"

"Well, quit, and be damned to you," said Derek, shortly. "You can catch the afternoon train to York. Go on that."

Hugh stalked from the room. He and Phœbe began to gather up their belongings in the kitchen. Tin trunks were shifted about upstairs. Snailem washed, and dressed, and brought Mike harnessed to the fruit waggon to the side door. He and Hugh carried down the boxes, Phœbe following, her head bent, and an hysterical smile on her