It was in the nature of things--it was Will's wish--it was her fate! She did not rebel against it, but it woke no thrill of delight within her.

She had promised, and the idea of breaking that promise was one that never entered her mind; but this evening, as she sat under the broom bush, a curious feeling of unrest came over her.

How was it all to end?
Would it not be wiser of Will to turn his face to the world lying beyond the Cribserth ridge, where the towns--the smooth roads--the college--and the many people lay, and leave her to her lonely moor--to the sheep, and the gorse, and the heather?
She looked around her, where the evening sun was flooding land and sea with golden glory.
"I would not break my heart," she thought; "here is plenty to make me happy; there's the sea and the sands and the rocks! and at night, oh, anwl! nobody knows how beautiful it is to float about in Stiven 'Storrom's' boat, in and out of the rocks, and the stars shining so bright in the sky, and the moon sometimes as light as day.

Oh, no; I wouldn't be unhappy," and stretching her arms out wide, she turned her face up to the glowing sky.

"I love it all," she said, "and I do not want a lover." Catching sight of the blue smoke curling up from the heather mound behind which Sara's cottage was buried, she rose, and dropping her sober thoughts, ran homewards, singing and filling the sweet west wind which blew round her with melody.