red kid, and a wrist-band of black velvet clasped with a buckle. An inverted cake-tin of weather-beaten straw, trimmed with rusty velvet, shadowed her old, tired eyes; an Indian shawl was crossed upon her thin bosom.
"Halcyone!" she called querulously. "Where have you been, child? You must have missed your tea."
And Halcyone answered:
"In the orchard."
For of what use to inform Aunt Ginevra about that enchanting visit to Cheiron! Aunt Ginevra who knew not of such beings!
"The orchard's let," grunted old William--"they do say it's sold--"
"I had rather not hear of it, William," said Miss La Sarthe frowning. "It does not concern one what occurs beyond one's gates."
Old William growled gently, and continued his laborious task--one of the wheels squeaked as it turned on the flags.
"Aunt Ginevra, you must have that oiled," said Halcyone, as she screwed up her face. "How can you bear it? You can't see the lovely spring things, with that noise."