“No, my dear child, we must not go in a swarm to the parsonage. And that old Glasgow suit of yours would never do. Besides, your father will come home. We must let Fred go alone. He can tell Mary that you are here, and she will come back tomorrow.”
Christy glanced at his own threadbare knees, and then at Fred’s beautiful white trousers. Certainly Fred’s tailoring suggested the advantages of an English university, and he had a graceful way even of looking warm and of pushing his hair back with his handkerchief.
“Children, run away,” said Mrs. Garth; “it is too warm to hang about your friends. Take your brother and show him the rabbits.”
The eldest understood, and led off the children immediately. Fred felt that Mrs. Garth wished to give him an opportunity of saying anything he had to say, but he could only begin by observing—
“How glad you must be to have Christy here!”
“Yes; he has come sooner than I expected. He got down from the coach at nine