enough. We went out to great-aunt's farm one day, and oh, the birds!
Some had on such dazzling plumage and flew so swiftly. We went to the
woods and found trailing arbutus, that is so sweet, and hepatica, and
oh! many another thing. I can't recall half the names. There was a tall,
grave gentleman who talked much about them and said they were families.
Are the little birds the babies, and are there cousins and aunts and
grandmothers all faded and shriveled up? And can they talk to each other
with those little nods and swinging back and forth?"

"Thou art a strange child, Primrose," and he smiled. "What were we
talking of? Oh, the coming of the children. And then father hath had a
bad fall and has to be kept in bed for weeks. So we seem full of
trouble."

"Oh, I am so sorry, Andrew!" Her head was up by his shoulder and she
leaned over and kissed him, and then he held her in a very close embrace
and felt in some mysterious way that she belonged to him, rather than to
his father or to her grand aunt.

"And you will hardly want me," with a slow half question answering
itself.

"That is one of my errands. Father desires to see Madam Wetherill. He
did not say--he wishes to follow out my uncle's will concerning you."

Then he looked her all over. Her eyes were cast down on the polished
floor that had lately come in. Many people had them sanded; indeed, the
large dining room here was freshly sanded every morning and drawn in
waves and diamonds and figures of various sorts. The Friends used the
sand, but condemned the figures as savoring of the world.

As Primrose stood there she was grace itself. Her head was full of loose
curls that glinted of silver in the high lights and a touch of gold in
the shade, deepening to a soft brown. Her skin was fine and clear, her
brows and the long lashes were quite dark, the latter just tipped with
gold that often gave the eyes a dazzling appearance. Her ear was like a
bit of pinkish shell or a half crumpled rose leaf. And where her chin
melted into her neck, and the neck sloped to the shoulder, there were
exquisite lines. After the fashion of the day her bodice was cut square,
and the sleeves had a puff at the shoulder and a pretty bow that had
done duty in various places before. He did not understand that it was
beauty that moved him so, for he had always been deeply sympathetic over
the loss of her parents.

She was not studying the floor, or thinking whether she looked winsome
or no