e call him Rameses: that's
Dick's choice of a name."

"He's a beautiful creature," returned Inna, stroking the animal's wise
old head.

"Yes," replied Dick, "I'm a lover of old names, so I thought I'd go back
to the Pharaohs. Not a bad idea, was it? though no compliment, I
daresay, to the old fogies."

"No," laughed Oscar; "but never mind about compliments for dead and gone
fogies."

"And what of the fogies of this generation?" inquired ready Dick.

"The same--never mind."

"But come, we must make hay while the sun shines. In with you, you two
girls, into the cart," said Dick, which they did, Jenny helping Inna.
Then up sprang the charioteer, Oscar beside him; crack went the whip,
and off they drove like the wind.

That nutting expedition was like a fairy dream to London-reared Inna;
the lads showed her a squirrel or two, a dormouse not yet gone to its
winter snooze, in its mossy bed-chamber. A snake wriggled past them,
which made her shudder; frogs and toads leaped here and there in dark
places. Then, oh, the whir and whisper of the autumn wind among the
trees! the lights and shadows! Oh, for the magic hand of her artist
father to make them hers for ever in a picture for her bedroom! But the
delight of a morning's nutting must come to an end--so did theirs; the
sandwiches demolished--share and share, as Oscar put it--they bethought
themselves of dinner and the road leading thereto, so once more they
were on their backward way, and parting company.

"Good-bye, mademoiselle!" cried Dick, as Inna stood at Oscar's side,
after she had kissed Jenny, and the two had vowed a girls' eternal
friendship. Then away went the donkey and cart, and our young people
hastened home, just in time for dinner. A meal silent as breakfast was
dinner, so far as they were concerned, for Mr. Barlow and the doctor
kept a learned conversation high above their heads all the time--so
Oscar said; and after it was over the boy vanished, nobody knew where.
As for Inna, she roamed in the orchard all the afternoon in a dream of
beauty, eating rosy apples, followed by tea--she and Mr. Barlow
alone--she making the toast and managing the urn: a living proof of
what can be done by trying, so the surgeon told her. Then he and the
doctor went out, and Inna crept out to the kitchen, to wonder with Mrs.
Grant where Oscar was, and what was keeping him.

"No good, Miss Inna; that boy'll go to the dogs if somebody don't take
him in hand. You try, dearie