"You're 'most a witch, you cunning little thing;" and he gave her a squeeze. "Now, Norry, take her to her mother's arms before you let her go."
They turned off, and grandad, who had not had his fun out, went back.
"It was all splendid, Norry. I want you to show me how to dance and teach me some songs—some of those gay and pretty ones."
"Well, well! you are getting along. Daffodil Carrick, you'll break hearts some day;" and Norah laughed.
She had so much to tell them at home and she spoke of Ned Langdale, but she did not quite like to tell about the dancing, wondering if there had been anything wrong in it, and she did not want to have Norah blamed. She liked the gayety so much. It was rather grave at home, with all grown people. And her mother was not all hers now. Father was very fond of her. And she was coming to like him very much.
He was pleased that she had such a nice time. He wondered if it would not be well to send her to this school for small children that had lately been opened. But her mother objected decidedly.
Oh, how beautiful the summer was with its flowers, and then its fruits. One Sunday afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Langdale came up with their son Edward, and Daffodil was glad to see him again. He was a nice, well-behaved lad, and very deferential to great-grandfather. The two soldiers talked over their battles and the state of the country. The preliminaries of peace were under way, but the settlement seemed to drag along. France still stood our friend.
Daffodil took him out to see the squirrels that came at her call and inspected him with such curious, inquiring eyes that he laughed about it.
"You see they are not used to boys," she explained.
The quails were very much at their ease as well, and robins flew and fluttered. Judy never tried to catch them, though sometimes she hunted out in the woods.