had "rowed a lot" as she came out upon the porch and gaily laughing
cried, "At last,--Aunt Ann has done with me."

They were both suffering from one of those dislocations of relation which
even in adult life are felt when friends long apart come together again.
The feeling of loss, as far as John was concerned, grew less as Leila
with return of childlike joy roamed with him over the house and through
the stables, and next day through Westways, with a pleasant word for
every one and on busying errands for her aunt. He was himself occupied
with study; but now the Squire had said it would be wise to drop his
work.

With something of timidity he said to Leila, "I am free for this
afternoon; come and see again our old playgrounds. It will be a long
while before we can take another walk."

"Certainly, John. And isn't it a nice, good-natured day? The summer is
over. Sometimes I wish we had no divisions of months, and the life of the
year was one quiet flow of days--oh, with no names to remind you."

"But think, Leila, of losing all the poetry of the months. Why not have
no day or night? Oh, come along. What do you want with a sunshade and a
veil--we will be mostly in the woods."

"My complexion, Mr. Penhallow," cried Miss Grey gaily.

He watched her young figure as she went upstairs--the mass of darkened
gold hair coiled in the classic fashion of the day on the back of her
head. She looked around from the stair. "I shall be ready in a minute,
John. It rained yesterday--will it be wet in the woods?"