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158 The Freelands
eyes he had! But the girl put out her
hand.
"Of course, Derek; it's Uncle Felix."
They both smiled now, the girl friendly,
the boy rather drawn back into himself.
And feeling strangely small and ill at ease,
Felix murmured:
"I'm going to see your father. Can I
give you a lift home?"
The answer came as he expected:
"No, thanks." Then, as if to tone it
down, the girl added:
"We've got something to do first.
You'll find him in the orchard."
She had a ringing voice, full of warmth.
Lifting his hat, Felix passed on. They
were a couple! Strange, attractive, almost
frightening. Kirsteen had brought
his brother a formidable little brood.
Arriving at the cottage he went up its
mossy stones and through the wicket gate.
There was little change, indeed, since the
days of Clara's visit, save that the beehives
had been moved farther out. Nor
did any one answer his knock; and mindful
of the girl's words, "You'll find him
in the orchard," he made his way out
among the trees. The grass was long
and starred with petals. Felix wandered
over it among bees busy with the appleblossom.
At the very end he came on
his brother, cutting down a pear-tree.
Tod was in shirt-sleeves, his brown arms
bare almost to the shoulders. How tremendous
the fellow was ! What resounding
and terrific blows he was dealing !
Down came the tree, and Tod drew his
arm across his brow. This great, burnt,
curly-headed fellow was more splendid to
look upon than even Felix had remembered,
and so well built that not a movement
of his limbs was heavy. His cheekbones
were very broad and high; his
brows thick and rather darker than his
bright hair, so that his deep-set, very blue
eyes seemed to look out of a thicket; his
level white teeth gleamed from under his
tawny mustache, and his brown, unshaven
cheeks and jaw seemed covered
with gold powder. Catching sight of
Felix he came forward.
"Fancy," he said, "old Gladstone
spending his leisure cutting down trees—
of all melancholy jobs!"
Felix did not quite know what to
answer, so he put his arm within his
brother's. Tod drew him toward the
tree.
"Sit down!" he said. Then, looking
sorrowfully at the pear-tree, he murmured:
"Seventy years—and down in seven
minutes. Now we shall burn it. Well,
it had to go. This is the third year it's
had no blossom."
His speech was slow, like that of a man
accustomed to think aloud. Felix admired
him askance. "I might live next
door," he thought, "for all the notice he's
taken of my turning up!"
"I came over in Stanley's car," he said.
"Met your two coming along—fine couple
they are!"
"Ah !" said Tod. And there was something
in the way he said it that was more
than a mere declaration of pride or of affection.
Then he looked at Felix.
"What have you come for, old man?"
Felix smiled. Quaint way to put it!
"For a talk."
"Ah!" said Tod, and he whistled.
A largish, well-made dog with a sleek
black coat, white underneath, and a black
tail white-tipped, came running up, and
stood before Tod, with its head rather to
one side and its yellow-brown eyes saying:
'I simply must get at what you're
thinking, you know.'
"Go and tell your mistress to come—
Mistress !"
The dog moved his tail, lowered it, and
went off.
"A .gypsy gave him to me," said Tod;
"best dog that ever lived."
"Everyone thinks that of their dog, old
man."
"Yes," said Tod; "but this is."
"He looks intelligent."
"He's got a soul," said Tod. "The
gypsy said he didn't steal him, but he
did."
"Do you always know when people
aren't speaking the truth, then?"
"Yes."
At such a monstrous remark from any
other man, Felix would have smiled; but
seeing it was Tod, he only asked: '' How ? "
"People who aren't speaking the truth
look you in the face and never move their
eyes."
"Some people do that when they are
speaking the truth."