And I appreciate the honour."

Corona nodded as she broke off a piece of crust and munched it.

"I wanted to take stock of it all. (We're dining out of doors, so
please let me talk with my mouth full. I'm learning to eat slowly,
like a good English girl: only it takes so much time when there's a
lot to say.) Well, I've had a good time, and nobody can take _that_
away, thank the Lord! It--it's been just heavenly."

"A good time for all of us, little maid."

"Honest Indian? . . . But it can't last, you know. That's what we
have to consider: and it mayn't be a gay thought, but I'd hate to be
one of those folks that never see what's over the next fence. . . .
Of course," said Corona pensively, "it's up to you to tell me I
dropped in on St. Hospital like one of Solomon's lilies that take no
thought for to-morrow. But I didn't, really: for I always knew this
was going to be the time of my life."

"I don't understand," said Copas. "Why should it not last?"

"I guess you and I'll have to be serious," she answered. "Daddy gets
frailer and frailer. . . . You can't hide from me that you know it:
and please don't try, for I've to think of--of the _afterwards_, and
I want you to help."

"But suppose that I have been thinking about it already--thinking
about it hard?" said Brother Copas slowly. "Ah, child, leave it to
me, and never talk like that!"

"But why?" she asked, wondering.

"Because we old folks cannot bear to hear a child talking, like one
of ourselves, of troubles. That has been our business: we've seen it
through; and now our best happiness lies in looking back on the
young, and looking forward for them, and keeping _them_ young and
happy so long as the gods allow. . . . Never search out ways of
rewarding us. To see you just going about with a light heart is a
better reward than ever you could contrive for us by study.
Child, if the gods allowed, I would keep you always like Master
Walton's milkmaid, that had not yet attained so much age and wisdom
as to load her mind with any fears of many things that will never be,
as too many men too often do. But she cast away care--"

"I think she must have been a pretty silly sort of milkmaid," said
Corona. "Likely she ended to slow music while the cows came home.
But what worries me is that I'm young and don't see any way to hurry
things. Miss Champernowne won't let me join the cookery class
because I'm under the age for it: and I see she talks sense in her