Nettie instinctively held her breath, and stood still for a moment.
Along the footpath in front of them a big figure was passing, and beyond
that bearded shadow the doctor's drag flew past with all the separate
tones of the horse's feet, the wheels, the jingle of the harness, ringing
clear through the sharp unsoftened medium of that frosty atmosphere. The
doctor himself had all his attention concentrated upon the windows of
the cottage, in which the sun was blazing red. He did not see Nettie in
the church porch. He was looking for her too intently in the crimsoned
windows, to which he turned his head back as he dashed on. Unawares
Nettie clasped the fingers of her little companion tighter in her hand
as she watched that unexpected homage. The drag was out of sight in
another moment; and in a few seconds more the bell of the cottage pealed
audibly, and the door was heard to open, admitting the Bushman, who had
come upon one of his frequent visits. That last sound disturbed Nettie's
composure, and at the same time brought her back to herself.

"I cannot ask you to go in, for Mr Chatham is there, and Susan of
course talking to him," said Nettie, with a quiet breath of restrained
impatience, "but I should like to talk to you, please. Let me take the
children home, and then I will walk up with you. Mrs Smith is very kind;
she will take off their things for them: they behave better now, when I
am out for a few minutes--though, to be sure, I never am out much to try
them. Come, children; be good, and do not make a great noise till I come
back."

"What do you want to talk to _her_ for?" asked the little girl, gazing
coldly in Miss Wodehouse's face.

"When Nettie went out to tea, we made as much noise as we liked," said
Freddy, "but there was papa there. Now there's only mamma, and she's so
cross. I hate Chatham--mamma is always crossest when Chatham's there.
What do you want to talk to people for, Nettie? Come in, and say there's
to be toast, and let us have tea."

"We never have any tea till Nettie comes back," added his sister,
looking full once more into Miss Wodehouse's face. The calm childish
impertinence disconcerted that gentle woman. She gazed at the wonderful
creatures with dumb amazement. Her eyes fell before their steady stare.
"I should be sorry to bring you out again, dear, if it's a trouble,"
began Miss Wodehouse, turning her face with a sense of relief from the
hard inspection of the children to their little