e star in his forehead."

"Madam Wetherill has three little colts," she returned rather
triumphantly. "And calves, and oh! such a lot of pretty, little
pinky-white pigs."

He cut another apple and fed it to her.

"We shall have walks and thou shalt ride on a pillion. And I have found
some books up in the old garret that have verses in them. Oh, wilt thou
not try to be content?"

She felt it was naughty, yet she cast about her for other protestations.

"But I am not a Quaker. I say the Lord's Prayer aloud when I go to bed,
over and over again."

"I like it myself," he returned reverently. "But one needs to
desire--various matters."

There had been serious questions among the Friends; some insisting all
forms were hampering, and that spiritual life was a law unto itself and
could be moved only by divine guidance, as even the Apostles were
ordered to take no heed as to what they should say. Yet, amid the many
shades of opinion, there had not been much dissension. Of late years not
a few had been scandalized by the defection of the Penns and several
others from the ways of their fathers, and drawn the cords a little
tighter, making the dress plainer and marking a difference between them
and the world's people.

"Thou couldst take me to the farm some day when I have learned to ride
on a pillion--just for a visit."

How coaxing the tone was! How bewitchingly the eyes smiled up into his!

"Thou wilt stay and be content?" he said persuasively.

"I will think. Content? That is a great thing."

"Yes. And now let us return."

"If there were no one but thou I should be quite happy," she said
innocently.

So they walked on. Rachel was standing down at the end of the path with
the horn in her hand.

"It is nigh supper time," she said, "and thy father wishes to see thee.
To-morrow is market day. Primrose, didst thou put away thy things
neatly?"

"I will do it now."

The child ran upstairs.

"A self-willed little thing," commented Rachel, "and she has much
temper."

"But a great deal of sweetness withal. And she hath been much petted.
She will feel strange for a few days. Be kindly affectioned toward her."

Rachel made no reply. She went to the kitchen where Chloe had her
master's supper prepared, a very simple one to-night on account of the
fever, and carried it in. Then she blew a long blast on the horn, which
she had forgotten in her surprise at seeing Primrose clinging to
Andrew's hand.

When Primrose