when the gold was intermingling with the grey under the park trees,
and it was hard upon sundown, the whole party went bounding up the
avenue at the Owl's Nest, the rooks over their heads cawing a noisy
"good night" to them and the world in general. They found Madame Giche
pacing to and fro on the terrace with the peacocks.

At first the aged lady was hard to manage: if her nieces were of the
party, they must take Rance, their nurse, she said; but, as Dick assured
her, there was no need.

"They'll be as safe as safe, dear Madame Giche," were his words, spoken
with the persuasive grace of a courtier, smiling his boyish smile into
her face. "With two such safeguards as Willett and me, they can't come
to any harm--in fact, there's nothing they can come to harm in--'tis a
safe shore, even if they took into their heads to bathe, which none of
the young ladies will, I daresay."

"No, grand-auntie; we don't want to bathe or do anything dangerous,"
pleaded Sybil.

"And we don't want to be babies, and take our nurse," objected Olive.

"Well, dears, you shall have your way," promised over-persuaded
grand-auntie; and so "the midges," to use Dick's words, "won the day."
Oh, the joy of waking with a whole long summer's day of pleasure in
store! An excursion to the beautiful sea--she had scarcely seen it in
her short life.

Inna was up, and dressed and looking out of her chamber window, when
Oscar came into the paddock below to attend to some lambs.

"Hurry up, old lady! 'tis a glorious morning," cried he, looking up and
catching sight of her at the window.

She waved her hand and was gone. She had to fill the vases with flowers;
one she always placed in her uncle's study. Since Christmas Eve, when
she carried in her holly spray, she always contrived some sort of a
nosegay for him.

It was pleasant to hear her tripping feet, and her young voice singing
little snatches of ditties, through the house; to see her stand and feed
the chickens in the morning sunshine. A willing little handmaid was she
anywhere, and to anybody who needed her.

"I know she begins to save me a deal," Mrs. Grant said of her.

"Well, Sunbeam, what do I read in your eyes this morning?" said Mr.
Barlow, meeting her in the passage.

"An excursion to the sea--to Swallow's Cliff."

"'Tis well to be a young lady of leisure. Are you going to foot it?"

"No; we're going in Dick Gregory's donkey-cart."

"Ah! and 'tis well to be young to bear such joltin