Part 53 (2/2)

'My dear child. (Do you really like it? I keep it for my best friends.) My _dee-ar_ child, I thought I was going to be sick there and then. He knocked every ounce of wind out of me--the angel! But I must really go.'

They set off together, very careful not to join hands or take arms.

'Not across the fields,' said Midmore at the stile. 'Come round by--by your own place.'

She flushed indignantly.

'It will be yours in a little time,' he went on, shaken with his own audacity.

'Not so much of your little times, if you please!' She s.h.i.+ed like a colt across the road; then instantly, like a colt, her eyes lit with new curiosity as she came in sight of the drive-gates.

'And not quite so much of your airs and graces, Madam,' Midmore returned, 'or I won't let you use our drive as a short cut any more.'

'Oh, I'll be good. I'll be good.' Her voice changed suddenly. 'I swear I'll try to be good, dear. I'm not much of a thing at the best. What made _you_....'

'I'm worse--worse! Miles and oceans worse. But what does it matter now?'

They halted beside the gate-pillars.

'I see!' she said, looking up the sodden carriage sweep to the front door porch where Rhoda was slapping a wet mat to and fro. '_I_ see....

Now, I really must go home. No! Don't you come. I must speak to Mother first all by myself.'

He watched her up the hill till she was out of sight.

THE FLOODS

The rain it rains without a stay In the hills above us, in the hills; And presently the floods break way Whose strength is in the hills.

The trees they suck from every cloud, The valley brooks they roar aloud-- Bank-high for the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills!

The first wood down is sere and small, From the hills, the bris.h.i.+ngs off the hills; And then come by the bats and all We cut last year in the hills; And then the roots we tried to cleave But found too tough and had to leave-- Polting through the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills!

The eye shall look, the ear shall hark To the hills, the doings in the hills, And rivers mating in the dark With tokens from the hills.

Now what is weak will surely go, And what is strong must prove it so.

Stand fast in the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills!

The floods they shall not be afraid-- Nor the hills above 'em, nor the hills-- Of any fence which man has made Betwixt him and the hills.

The waters shall not reckon twice For any work of man's device, But bid it down to the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills!

The floods shall sweep corruption clean-- By the hills, the blessing of the hills-- That more the meadows may be green New-amended from the hills.

The crops and cattle shall increase, Nor little children shall not cease-- Go--plough the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills!

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