Suddenly feet fell on the stone pavement outside the cow-
byres, and a man approached where she sat and milked the
last cow. The others, each in turn, her store yielded, had
passed through an open gate into the Moor, there to browse
and repose and chew the cud until another evening.
Sarah Jane glanced up and saw Hilary Woodrow standing



THE GATES OF THE MORNING 149

and looking at her. As yet she had but seen him once upon a
formal introduction; now he stopped and spoke to her.
"Good-morning, Mrs. Brendon. I hope your house is com-
fortable, and that you are settling down. Let Tabitha know
if she can do anything for you."

"Good-morning, sir, and thank you. 'Tis a very snug JVl
house and nothing could be nicer."

He nodded. Then the last cow went off and Sarah Jane
rose, patted it on the flank and stretched her arms. He re-
marked her height and splendid figure.
"Rather cramping work, I'm afraid," he said.
"*Twas at first, but I like it better now. Cows be nice, cozy
creatures an' terrible understanding. Some's so peaceful an'
quiet; an' others that masterful they won't take 'no' for an
answer, an' push afore the patient ones and get their own
way, and will be milked first."

He nodded once more and smiled. Then she washed her
hands in a granite trough of sweet water and spoke again.
