of her sex. It was as though I had thrust a gag into her mouth, had frightened her into silence. I shall never succeed in making her talk like that again.

CHAPTER XIII

Cruikshank has looked up over the hedge of his garden and, for one moment, found the bitterness of the world. I have no doubt there is this hedge in every philosophy, over which it is dangerous to peep—a curtain which it is unwise to pull aside. Then it becomes a question, not of philosophy, but of courage; a question not of mind, but of spirit.

Cruikshank

Such moments as these are bound to come; and, as it has been said of love and of hunger, so well may it be said of this—when Fear comes in at the door, then out of the window flies philosophy.

Notwithstanding all his quiet and retiring habits as a gardener, I should ever have declared that Cruikshank was a man of spirit. But I did not know he had so brave a heart within him as by misadventure he has shown to me now.

The other afternoon between lunch and tea, I lay asleep on a little square of grass shut in by fuchsia hedges and surrounded by dwarf rose trees. In the middle of the grass there stands a sundial. I have found this spot for myself, for though it is in his garden, Cruikshank would never have shown it to me. When I told him about my discovery he said:

"Yes—I know—it's quite nice, but it has a feeling of sadness about it for us."

"Sadness!" I exclaimed. "Why, it's almost the sunniest spot in the garden."

He nodded his head. "Yes—yes," said he, "I know all that, but a little dog we had is buried there—a small little chap that belonged to Bellwattle. He was nothing of a prize dog—in fact, I don't think he had any breeding at all. He was just one of Nature's dogs—Nature's gentlemen. I think that could be said of him. I found him being beaten by a tinker in the village and I brought him home. He took to Bellwattle like a duck to the water. You can imagine how she took to him. Of course, as I say, he was not a prize dog, but his manners were of the best. Though he followed Bellwattle everywhere, he would never forget to thank me every day of his life for that little business with the tinker. His method of gratitude was quite original. He put his two paws up, scratching at me till he got my two hands to hold them, then he'd look straight into my eyes for nearly two minutes. I don't imagine I should have been surprised if 

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