but when he lifted it again it slid so easily and far into its socket that the other end came out, and fell, barking Brook's knee. He swore a little, then tackled the rail again; he had the same trouble as before with the other end, but succeeded at last. Then he turned away, rubbing his knee.
Lizzie hadn't smiled, not once; she watched him gravely all the while.
'Did you hurt your knee?' she asked, without emotion.
'No. The rail did.'
She reflected solemnly for a while, and then asked him if it felt sore.
He replied rather briefly in the negative.
'They were always nasty, awkward rails to put up,' she remarked, after some more reflection.
Brook agreed, and then they turned their faces towards the homestead. Half-way down the siding was a clump of saplings, with a big log lying amongst them. Here Brook paused. 'We'll sit down for awhile and have a rest,' said he. 'Sit down, Lizzie.'
She obeyed with the greatest of gravity. Nothing was said for awhile. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, gazing thoughtfully at the ridge, which was growing dim. It looked better when it was dim, and so did the rest of the scenery. There was no beauty lost when darkness hid the scenery altogether. Brook wondered what the girl was thinking about. The silence between them did not seem awkward, somehow; but it didn't suit him just then, and so presently he broke it.
'Well, I must go to-morrow.'
