Once a Week

nticleer had ceased his song; the pigs were asleep; in the barn the cow lay thinking. A deep peace brooded over the rural scene, the peace of centuries. Terrible to think that

me minutes she stood there, breathing in the incense of the day; then dressing quickly she went down into the great oak-beamed kitchen to prepare breakfast for her father and the pi

he poured the bran-mash into a bowl

tside this sort of story, she was yet as modest and as good a girl as was to be found in the county. Many a fine lady would have given all her Pa

sudden knock

prise. Unless it was the cow, it

iking his head violently against a beam as

s lips. "Pray forgive this intrusion. The fact is I have lost my way, and I

n that she was being addressed b

rose Farm, si

before. I am Lord Beltravers, of Beltravers Castle, Beltravers. Having returned last night from Ind

She removed a lettuce from the kitchen chair, dusted it, and offered it to him. (That is to say, the chair,

down the tiled kitchen. "Deuce take it," he added recklessly, "she's a lovely

d Gwendolen, returning w

ed the pail and drai

t was good!" he s

said G

stance so far as to solicit your help in putting me far enough on my path to discover my way back to Beltrav

w you," she

ple tree a thrush was singing; the gooseberries w

ry beautifu

said Gw

-night my mother, Lady Beltravers

he tango," s

announced with simple dignity. "Y

lord. Oh, I s

st bid you good-bye. But first,

n French,

e 'f' o

aid Gwendo