"Of course," said Tobias, feeling a little bad that he had probably sounded agitated. But he had been. He forced a smile and held the door open for her. Once they were seated in the high gig, Jimmy opened the low gate and they were off.

It was early, but it was already warm. They drove into a valley along the sandy cart track in a pleasant pace. Now and then a rabbit shot across the path, but Tobias had taken Finn, the more reliable horse of the pair, and he wasn't easily startled. There were meadows on either side. The grass had been cut in some of the fields yesterday and now lay drying in the sun, filling the air with a sweet scent. Beyond and behind, higher up, the moors had not yet turned quite purple, but they already seemed full of life with fresh high grass interspersing the sturdy heather plants, and birds soaring and singing above, and a few white specks where sheep grazed.

Whether on a foggy, damp winter's day, or on a morning like this, this land was home to Tobias and he cherished it on any day. But he had to admit there was something rapturous about early summer mornings on the moors. As the carriage gently rocked along, he forgot about his fellow passenger, and sat in silent veneration, while the agitation and stress that tended to build up in the house melted away in the gentle rays of morning sun.