4 THE LIFE OF TEE FIELDS. 



split, the mingled poverty and carelessness — perhaps 

 rather dreaminess — disappeared when once you had 

 met the full untroubled gaze of those beautiful eyes. 

 Untroubled, that is, with any ulterior thought of evil 

 or cunning ; they were as open as the day, the day 

 which you can make your own for evil or good. So, 

 too, like the day, was she ready to the making. 



No stability ; now fast in motion ; now slow ; now 

 by fits and starts ; washing her face to-day, her hands 

 to-morrow. Never going straight, even along the 

 road ; talking with the waggoner, helping a child to 

 pick watercress, patting the shepherd's dog, finding a 

 flower, and late every morning at the hay-field. It 

 was so far to come, she said; no doubt it was, if 

 these stoppings and doublings were counted in. No 

 character whatever, no more than the wind ; she was 

 like a well-hung gate swinging to a touch ; like water 

 yielding to let a reed sway ; like a singing-flame rising 

 and falling to a word, and even to an altered tone 

 of voice. A word pushed her this way ; a word pushed 

 her that. Always yielding, sweet, and gentle. Is not 

 this the most seductive of all characters in women ? 



Had they left her alone, would it have been any 

 difierent ? Those bitter, coarse, feminine tongues 

 which gave her the name of evil, and so led her to 

 openly announce that, as she had the name, she would 

 carry on the game. That is an old country saying, 

 " Bear the name, carry the game." If you have the 

 name of a poacher, then poach ; you will be no worse 

 ofl", and you will have the pleasure of the poaching. It 

 is a serious matter, indeed, to give any one a bad name, 

 more especially a sensitive, nervous, beautiful girl. 



