d to inquire,' was his answer.
'It was a nasty accident, and might have upset her nerves; but she is
very strong and courageous.'

'She has great reason to be grateful to you,' I returned, for I felt very
sorry for him. He was hoping that she had sent him some message; she
would surely desire to be remembered to him. When I repeated Jill's
abrupt little speech his face cleared, and he looked quite bright.

'There is Mrs. Barton looking out for you: I must not keep you at the
gate talking,' he said cheerfully. 'Besides, I see Leah Bates coming down
from Gladwyn, and I want to speak to her.' And he ran off in his boyish
fashion.

I was glad to escape Leah, so I went quickly up the garden-path. The
little widow was waiting for me in the porch, her face beaming with
welcome. Tinker rushed out of the kitchen as soon as he heard my voice,
and gambolled round us with awkward demonstrations of joy that nearly
upset us, and Joe the black cat came and rubbed himself against my gown,
with tail erect and loud purring.

The little parlour looked snug and inviting. The fireplace was decorated
with fir cones and tiny boughs covered with silvery lichen. A great pot
of mignonette perfumed the room with its sweetness. Charlie's face seemed
to greet me with grave sweet smiles. I seemed to hear his voice, 'Welcome
home, Ursula.'

'Oh, I am so glad to be home!' I said, as I went upstairs to my pretty
bedroom.

When I had finished my unpacking, and had had tea, I sat down in my
easy-chair, with a book that Miss Gillespie had lent me. Tinker laid his
head in my lap, and we both disposed ourselves for an idle, luxurious
evening. The bees were still humming about the honeysuckles; one great
brown fellow had buried himself in one of my crimson roses; the birds
were twittering in the acacia-tree, chirping their good-night to each
other; the sun was setting behind the limes in a glory of pink and golden
clouds, and a mingled scent of roses, mignonette, and hay seemed to
pervade the atmosphere.

I laid down my book and fell into a waking dream; my thoughts seemed to
take bird-flights into all sorts of strange places; the summer sounds and
scents seemed to lull me into infinite content. Now I heard a drowsy
cluck-cluck from the poultry-yard,--Dame Partlet remonstrating with her
lord; then a faint moo from the field where pretty brown-eyed Daisy was
chewing the cud; down below they were singing in the little dissenting
chapel; sweet shrill v