iven her by Mr. Raymond.

The weather was very hot, and the woods very shadowy. There were not a
great many wild flowers, for it was getting well towards autumn, and the
most of the wild flowers rise early to be before the leaves, because
if they did not, they would never get a glimpse of the sun for them. So
they have their fun over, and are ready to go to bed again by the time
the trees are dressed. But there was plenty of the loveliest grass and
daisies about the house, and Diamond's chief pleasure seemed to be to
lie amongst them, and breathe the pure air. But all the time, he was
dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind, and trying to
recall the songs the river used to sing. For this was more like being at
the back of the north wind than anything he had known since he left it.
Sometimes he would have his little brother, sometimes his little sister,
and sometimes both of them in the grass with him, and then he felt just
like a cat with her first kittens, he said, only he couldn't purr--all
he could do was to sing.

These were very different times from those when he used to drive the
cab, but you must not suppose that Diamond was idle. He did not do so
much for his mother now, because Nanny occupied his former place; but
he helped his father still, both in the stable and the harness-room, and
generally went with him on the box that he might learn to drive a pair,
and be ready to open the carriage-door. Mr. Raymond advised his father
to give him plenty of liberty.

"A boy like that," he said, "ought not to be pushed."

Joseph assented heartily, smiling to himself at the idea of pushing
Diamond. After doing everything that fell to his share, the boy had a
wealth of time at his disposal. And a happy, sometimes a merry time it
was. Only for two months or so, he neither saw nor heard anything of
North Wind.

CHAPTER XXXV. I MAKE DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE

MR. RAYMOND'S house was called The Mound, because it stood upon a little
steep knoll, so smooth and symmetrical that it showed itself at once to
be artificial. It had, beyond doubt, been built for Queen Elizabeth as a
hunting tower--a place, namely, from the top of which you could see the
country for miles on all sides, and so be able to follow with your eyes
the flying deer and the pursuing hounds and horsemen. The mound had been
cast up to give a good basement-advantage over the neighbouring heights
and woods. There was a great quarry-hole not f