of them, trickling along under that thin, funny cap he always wore),
and he presently said,

"It's too bad to bring you away when the children are at home, Sara,
but you know they are a great deal of care to Avrillia, and when
they're at home I try to do everything I can to relieve her. Now, you
see, she won't have to bother about my trousers for the whole
afternoon."

"But how can you get along without your step?" asked Sara. She knew
this was a personal question, but she felt, somehow, that Pirlaps
would not think her impolite.

He looked down at her and smiled, just as her own father did when she
asked questions which showed her youth and inexperience.

"I'm not a step-man, Sara," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement
at her lack of information, "only a step-husband. When I'm away from
Avrillia I don't need the step."

All this time they had been walking along hand in hand. Sara noticed
that they had left the Verge behind, and were following a very
pleasant sort of ridge, from which they could see down into a sort of
hollow for smiles and smiles, and, beyond the hollow, the buff-colored
hills and mountains that formed the walls of the amphitheatre. There
were not so many Gugollaph-trees as there were in the Garden and along
the road to the Dimplesmithy, owing to the different topography of the
country; instead, there were a good many poker-bushes.

"My relations live in a colony," said Pirlaps. "There used to be