em._" He signed
himself, "_Your affectionate Father, Henry Quinn._"

And so Henry had gone that Easter to Boveyhayne, where Mrs. Graham and
her daughter Mary lived. Ninian and he had travelled by train to
Whitcombe where they were met by old Widger and driven over hilly
country to Boveyhayne. There was a long climb out of Whitcombe and then
a long descent into Boveyhayne, after which the road ran on the level to
the end of Hayne lane which led to the Manor. Before they reached the
end of the lane, Old Widger turned to them and, pointing with his whip
in front of him, said, laughingly, "Here be Miss Mary waitin' for 'ee,
Mas'er Ninyan!"

Ninian stood up in the carriage and looked ahead. "Hilloa, Mary!" he
shouted, waving his hand, and then, before Old Widger had time to pull
up, he jumped into the road and ran on ahead. "Come on, Quinny!" he
shouted, and Henry, suddenly shy, got out of the carriage and followed
after him.

"You needn't wait for us, Widger!" Ninian shouted again. "We'll walk
home!"

And Widger, smiling largely, drove on.

4

Mary Graham was younger than Ninian, nearly two years younger, and very
different from him. He was big in body and bone, and fair and very
hearty in his manner. When Ninian approved of you he did not pat your
back: he punched it so that your bones rattled and your flesh tingled.
All his movements were large, splashy, as Gilbert said, and, his voice
was incapable of whispers. But Mary was slight and small and dark and
her laugh was like the sound of a little silver bell. She was standing
on an earth mound at the entrance to the lane when Henry came up to
Ninian and her, and he wondered to himself how her small, shapely head
could bear the weight of the long dark hair which fell about her
shoulders in a thick, flowing pile. Ninian was chattering to her so
loudly and so rapidly that Henry could hardly hear her replies....

"Oh, this is Quinny!" Ninian said, jerking his thumb in Henry's
direction. "His real name is Quinn, Henry Quinn, but we call him
'Quinny.' At least, Gilbert does, so, of course we do too. And he's
Irish, but he isn't a Catholic, and he says Irish people don't keep pigs
in their houses, and they eat other things besides potatoes and ... come
on, Quinny, buck up and be civil!"

Mary stepped down from the mound, and held out her hand to Henry. "How
do you do!" she said, smiling at him, and he took her hand and said he
was very well and asked her how she did,