two or three poor creatures whom they knew, we should not have
all this poverty and suffering which are distracting to think about."

"I doubt it; it would be more likely to pauperize the whole nation."

Here Charlie and Cis, with earth-stained knees and hands--the latter
full of violets--reluctantly descended. Adding these to the basket
already overflowing, they had a short wrangle as to who should carry it,
and then Katherine turned her steps homeward. Errington passed the
bridle over his arm, and to her great annoyance, walked beside her.

"Are you, then, disposed to give yourself to faith and to good works?"

"I do not know. I should like to help those who want, but I fear I am
too fond of pleasure to sacrifice myself--at least I was and I suppose
the love will return. Of course it is easy to give money; it is hard to
give one's self."

"You seem very philosophic for so young a lady."

"I am not young," said Katherine, sadly; "I am years older than Lady
Alice."

"How many--one or two?" asked Errington, in his kind, fatherly, somewhat
superior tone, which rather irritated her.

"The years I mean are not to be measured by the ordinary standard; even
_you_ must know that some years last longer--no, that is not the
expression--press heavier than others."

"Even I? Do you think I am specially matter-of-fact?"

"I have no right to think you anything, for I do not know you; but you
give me that impression."

"I dare say I am; nor do I see why I should object to be so considered."

Here Cecil, who got tired of a conversation from which he could gather
nothing, put in his oar: "Are you Mr. Errington?"

"I am. How do you know my name?"

"I saw you going out with the Colonel to the meet--oh, a long while ago!
And Miss Richards and nurse were talking about you."

"They said you had a real St. Bernard dog--one that gets the people out
of the snow," cried Charlie. "Will you let him come here? I want to see
him."

"_You_ had better come and pay him a visit."

"Oh yes, thank you!" exclaimed Cis. "Auntie will take us, perhaps.
Auntie will take us to the sea-side, and then we shall bathe, and go in
boats, and learn to row."

"Cis, run with me to that big tree at the foot of the hill. Auntie will
carry the basket," cried Charlie, and the next moment they were off.

"Fine little fellows," said Errington. "I like children."

"I am going to ask Mrs. Ormonde to lend them to me for a few months, for
they are all I