kettle simmered upon the hob, and Sarah was kneeling before the fire toasting some slices of bread, when the door opened, and a laughing, handsome, dusty fellow entered.
"My word, Sarah, but I am tired and thirsty and hungry! Eh, lass, but I've hed such a jolly tramp of it."
"Wheriver hes thou been, my lad? Burley was rare put out to find thy loom idle."
The last word was broken in two by a kiss, and ere Steve let her face slip from his hands he stroked affectionately the smooth bands of black hair above it.
"Been? Why, I've been all through Elsham woods, and down to t' varry sea-sands, and look 'ee here, my lass!" Then he emptied his pockets on the rug beside her, shells and insects and weeds, and all sorts of curious things.
She could not say a cross word to him, he looked so happy, so perfectly satisfied with his day's doings. He passed over her remark about his loom as if it was a subject not worth speaking about, and began a vivid description of all he had seen and heard. She brought him a basin of water and soap, and a
