“No. Are you going out again without taking tea, Caleb?” said Mrs. Garth, seeing that her absentminded husband was putting on again the hat which he had just taken off.

“No, no; I’m only going to Mary a minute.”

Mary was in a grassy corner of the garden, where there was a swing loftily hung between two pear-trees. She had a pink kerchief tied over her head, making a little poke to shade her eyes from the level sunbeams, while she was giving a glorious swing to Letty, who laughed and screamed wildly.

Seeing her father, Mary left the swing and went to meet him, pushing back the pink kerchief and smiling afar off at him with the involuntary smile of loving pleasure.

“I came to look for you, Mary,” said Mr. Garth. “Let us walk about a bit.”