"Her guardians will do that. I promise no will of mine shall be left to oppose it."
"And that she shall visit us now and then."
"I agree to that."
"We are busy now—thou knowest the many things that press in the summer—and two children of an age are troublesome unless brought up together. So we thought it best to return her just now."
"And I am glad to have her. There is so much help here that a child's trouble is scarcely noted."
But on his way home James Henry wondered if he had not given in too easily to the worldly and pleasing way of Madam Wetherill.
She smiled a little to herself as she called Primrose from the summer house to say good-by, and to receive some sage advice.
"Thou naughty little moppet," she said when the stout Quaker had ridden away, as she caught the little girl's hand in hers and gave her a swing, "what didst thou do that thou wert sent home in disgrace?"
"Was it disgrace?" The color deepened on the rose-leaf cheek. "Aunt Lois found no fault, only to call me an idle girl. Faith is busy from morning to night and cannot even take a walk nor haunt the woods for flowers. Rachel is very stern and hath sharp eyes——"
Should she confess last night's misdemeanor? But what right had Rachel to condemn it? Cousin Andrew had kissed her in this house. Oh, was so sweet a thing as a kiss wrong?