the shadow of the battlements and towers on the
sward whitened with dew.

After the close atmosphere of the sickroom the freshness was
welcome, and Mrs. Woodford, once a friend of Katherine Phillips,
'the Matchless Orinda,' had an eye and a soul to appreciate the
beauty, and she even murmured the lines of Il Penseroso as she leant
on the arm of her brother-in-law, who, in his turn, thought of
Homer.

Suddenly, as they stood in the shadow, they were aware of a small,
slight, fantastic figure in the midst of the grass-grown court,
where there was a large green mushroom circle or fairy ring. On the
borders of this ring it paused with an air of disappointment. Then
entering it stood still, took off the hat, whose lopsided appearance
had given so strange an outline, and bowed four times in opposite
directions, when, as the face was turned towards the spectators,
invisible in the dark shadow, the lady recognised Peregrine
Oakshott. She pressed the Doctor's arm, and they both stood still
watching the boy bathing his hand in the dew, and washing his face
with it, then kneeling on one knee, and clasping his hands, as he
cried aloud in a piteous chant--

"Fairy mother, fairy mother! Oh, come, come and take me home! My
very life is sore to me. They all hate me! My brothers and the
servants, every one of them. And my father and tutor say I am
possessed with an evil spirit, and I am beaten daily, and more than
daily. I can never, never get a good word from living soul! This
is the second seven years, and Midsummer night! Oh, bring the other
back again! I'm weary, I'm weary! Good elves, good elves, take me
home. Fairy mother! Come, come, come!" Shutting his eyes he
seemed to be in a state of intense expectation. Tears filled Mrs.
Woodford's eyes. The Doctor moved forward, but no sooner did the
boy become conscious of human presence than he started up, and fled
wildly towards a postern door, but no sooner had he disappeared in
the shadow than there was a cry and a fall.

"Poor child!" exclaimed Dr. Woodford, "he has fallen down the steps
to the vault. It is a dangerous pitfall."

They both hurried to the place, and found the boy lying on the steps
leading down to the vault, but motionless, and when they succeeded
in lifting him up, he was quite unconscious, having evidently struck
his head against the mouth of the vault.

"We must carry him home between us," said Mrs. Woodford. "That will
be better than r