She smiled faintly; and he was so delighted to welcome that sign of a return to her normal self that he gave scant consideration to the substance of her reply.

“Well⁠—not in those very words, Wolf! But Dad do always tell that there was something queer about this young gentleman’s end; and if it weren’t the Squire, ’twere at least Landlord Round who folks have seen, mooning and mowling round that grave.”

“Come on, Gerda!”⁠—he spoke as energetically and gaily as he could⁠—“let’s hear what you really think! You don’t yourself think that it wasn’t an animal that made that hole, eh?”

“Let’s not talk about it any more,” the girl replied. “I was angry, and you know why; and you know that any girl who wasn’t made of rags and straw would have been angry! If I said more than I meant, you must forget it, Wolf, and forgive me.”