ful;
then, raising her eyes, she became aware of a little figure in the
distance, running towards her across the field at the bottom of the
orchard.

"Lor'!" she exclaimed aloud, "if here isn't Lilac White!"

It was a slight little figure clothed in a cotton frock which had once
been blue in colour, but had been washed so very often that it now
approached a shade of green; over it was a long straight pinafore
gathered round the neck with a string, and below it appeared blue
worsted stockings, and thick, laced boots. Her black hair was brushed
back and plaited in one long tail tied at the end with black ribbon, and
in her hand she carried a big sunbonnet, swinging it round and round in
the air as she ran. As she came nearer the orchard gate, it was easy to
see that she had some news to tell, for her small features worked with
excitement, and her grey eyes were bright with eagerness.

Agnetta advanced slowly to meet her with the empty basin in her hand,
and unlatched the gate.

"Whatever's the matter?" she asked.

Lilac could not answer just at first, for she had been running a long
way, and her breath came in short gasps. She came to a standstill under
the trees, and Agnetta stared gravely at her with her mouth wide open.
The two girls formed a strong contrast to each other. Lilac's white
face and the faded colour of her dress matched the blossoms and leaves
of the cherry trees in their delicacy, while about the red-cheeked
Agnetta there was something firm and positive, which suggested the fruit
which would come later.

"I came--" gasped Lilac at last, "I ran--I thought I must tell you--"

"Well," said Agnetta, still staring at her in an unmoved manner, "you'd
better fetch your breath, and then you'll be able to tell me. Come and
sit down."

There was a bench under one of the trees near where she had been feeding
the ducks. The two girls sat down, and presently Lilac was able to say:
"Oh, Agnetta, the artist gentleman wants to put me in a picture!"

"Whatever do you mean, Lilac White?" was Agnetta's only reply. Her
slightly disapproving voice calmed Lilac's excitement a little.

"This is how it was," she continued more quietly. "You know he's
lodging at the `Three Bells?' and he comes an' sits at the bottom of our
hill an' paints all day."

"Of course I know," said Agnetta. "It's a poor sort of an object he's
copyin', too--Old Joe's tumble-down cottage. I peeped over his shoulder
t'other day--'tai