"Yes," Salome said; "I do love them so much; they are like bits of spring sunshine."
Then, as the party all walked on together, Philip talked of many things; and Kate seemed to amuse him as much as she did Salome, for he often laughed merrily at her sharp sallies.
The Percivals returned with the Wiltons, and they had what Aunt Betha always liked to prepare for them—a school-room tea: a glass dish of jam, a pile of hot cakes and—a departure from the usual order—of Dorset butter. Fresh white butter was a luxury not known every day in Mrs. Wilton's school-room or nursery.
"This is jolly," said Kate, "if only there are chairs enough to hold us all.—No, don't sit on that, Mr. Percival; it has long been shaky on one leg.—Run, Edith, and get some more chairs. And you three little ones may all come, only you must not make yourselves 'jammy,' or what will Aunt Betha say?"
"I think I shall go and have my tea with Guy, if you don't mind very much," Salome said. "Poor little boy, he must wish he could come here."
"Nonsense, Salome! Pray don't be so silly," Kate said. "Let Edith take him some hot cake, and he will be content."
But Salome went off, little Edith following her; and Guy's delighted welcome was a sufficient reward.
"Oh, Cousin 'Lome, if only you could live with me! Do tell me another story."
Aunt Betha took the opportunity of Salome's presence to slip downstairs to watch some operations in the kitchen, and Salome and Guy were left together. She fed him with little bits of cake, and repeated to him some verses which fascinated the sick child, and he made her say them over and over again;—the story of the two little birds told by Mrs. Fowler in her beautiful book called "Our Children's Story,"—a story in its sweet musical rhythm which has touched many hearts besides little Guy Wilton's.
Salome wished she could have one word with Philip Percival—one word to say that the ten pounds would be so soon in her possession. But the opportunity was not forthcoming. Salome tripped gaily home with Reginald in the soft spring twilight, her basket of daffodils in her hand, and a feeling of joy in her heart, which beamed in her sweet face as she went into the drawing-room at Elm Cottage.