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merely picked up some of Kate’s habits. He glanced at her glowing face, whipped to a high color by the wind, and was entranced by the trusting, doe-like eyes. Damn it, he thought ruefully, I would study archeology to justify her faith in me.
    Kate was surprised when her brother approached her on the matter of reading material about farming and breeding, but she supplied an overwhelming number of books and journals to him with alacrity. At his look of dismay she marked the most important texts and articles for a start. She was therefore not quite as shocked to learn that he had been talking with her father’s tenants, but she did not discuss the matter with Charity, though she would have liked to know if this was the source of Ralph’s sudden serious study of the subject.
    She and her friend were riding back from the village one day when they came upon Ralph mounted on his horse, a small child seated behind him and clinging to his waist. Ralph was singing.
    “My word!” Kate exclaimed involuntarily.
    Ralph halted his song abruptly and explained sheepishly, “Found the little tyke in the wood. Gotten lost and hurt himself. One of the Jones brood, ain’t he? I was taking him home.”
    “Yes,” Kate agreed as she took in the tear-stained face. “You’re Jeremy, aren’t you? Feel better now?”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am. Mr. Montgomery knows the funniest songs,” the lad announced cheerfully.
    “Does he? We shall have to have him sing them for us, won’t we, Charity?” Kate asked with a wicked grin at her brother.
    “Yes, indeed,” Charity agreed as she bestowed a warm smile on Ralph, who flushed to the roots of his hair and said he must be off.
    “He’s fond of children and animals and has a remarkable knack with them.” Kate remarked when the riders were beyond hearing. “I don’t doubt that he’ll do very well with his horses.” She reined her horse toward the Hall and did not see the sad look in her friend’s eyes as Charity watched Ralph’s departing figure.
    * * * *
    Ralph was pleased, if a trifle embarrassed, to be asked that evening by Charity to sing some of his songs for them. There was no difficulty for Kate in providing some background on the pianoforte for his rich baritone, though she was not always familiar with the tunes. He had to stop a moment before each, considering whether the words were appropriate to the present company, before he delighted them with various amusing pieces.
    While he sang he was aware of Charity’s eyes on him and he could have sworn that there was a special tenderness in them, but she would quickly bend down to set a stitch if he tried to meet her gaze. As his own reward for entertaining the family circle, he seated himself near her when Susan started to leaf through the music for a song she knew well enough to play.
    “I must thank you for obliging me, Mr. Montgomery,” Charity said softly. “You have a lovely voice and a charming repertoire.”
    “I always stop to listen when the village children are singing, though I didn’t pick them all up that way,” he confessed with a flush. “It is fascinating how the songs of the countryside are passed down from generation to generation. Children seem to absorb their heritage along with their daily bread. There must be great rewards in having a family, guiding young minds to knowledge and a sense of well-being, don’t you think?”
    Charity in her agitation pricked herself with a needle and sat gazing in alarm at the spot of blood Ralph dabbed from her finger. “Well, I . . . no . . . It seems to me that children are a very great responsibility. Not everyone is . . . prepared to undertake such a challenge. I myself cannot view it at all easily,” she said with a valiant attempt at lightness. “Think of all the parents who despair of their offspring! I wonder whether it is worth the effort.”
    Ralph regarded her incredulously, and Charity did not give him an opportunity to respond, as she pointed out to him that