ere sweet in the old man's sight. He thanked God for them, as he
thanked Him for all beautiful things--the sunshine which gave colour to
the flowers, the green restfulness of the land, the song of the birds in
the trees. "You are very welcome, dear. It does me good to see you
among us once again."

"And looking so well. You are quite blooming, Peggy; and so smart as
she is too! Deary, deary me, is that what they call the fashion?" cried
Mrs Asplin, holding the girl in outstretched arms, and turning her
slowly round and round, to take in the details of her attire. "You look
so spruce, child, that I hardly knew you; but there, it won't be long, I
expect, before the true Peggy peeps out. Come in, darling. There's a
new rug in the hail; don't trip over it! We have been saying we needed
it for five years back, but it was bought only last week, to smarten the
house for your coming. Those are Esther's certificates in the corner,
and you must see the new cretonne in the drawing-room. All the chairs
are recovered. We finished them only last week."

"Tut, tut!" cried Peggy, and shook her head in dismay at such reckless
extravagance. She had not had a chance of exchanging any further
greeting with Rob than a smiling nod, while she and Esther cast curious
glances at one another across the room, renewing the impressions of
their first meeting. Peggy thought it one of the prettiest sights in
the world to see Mrs Asplin hang on to the vicar's arm and drag him
with her about the house, forgetful of everything but her instinctive
desire to be near him in her rejoicing; the prettiest thing in the world
to see the tenderness in his eyes. She looked at them mischievously,
and then of a sudden her own eyes began to blink, for all those four
years of absence had left their mark on the dear faces; they had changed
as well as herself; but with them it was not the blossoming of the bud
into the flower, it was rather the losing of those last leaves which had
lingered from life's summer. The vicar's shoulders were more bowed; the
lines on his face more deeply graven; his wife's hair had grown silvery
about the temples, and the pathetic, tired look in the grey eyes must
surely be permanent nowadays, since not even the excitement of meeting
could chase it away. She was even sweeter-looking than of old, but had
she always been so thin, so transparently delicate in colour? Do what
she would, Peggy could not keep back her tears, and