“Oh no!” answered Winnie, smiling; “we were only talking about the swallows. We think they will gather here before they fly, as they did last year, and I do so want to see them go. Last year I missed them somehow.”
Dr. Howard smiled and shook his head.
“I never saw the swallows go yet, little maid, though I am an old man now; and what is more, I never knew anybody who had, either.”
Winifred’s eyes opened wide.
“Does nobody ever see them go? Somebody must. They do not turn into fairies and vanish away, do they?”
The old doctor smiled and answered in a fanciful way for a little while, until seeing the child was growing puzzled, he said at last:
“No, no, my little girl, it is nothing so strange after all; you need not open your big eyes, and look as if I were telling you mystic fables. The swallows always start in the night, that is all; and in the morning we wake up and find them gone, but we do not see them go.”
“In the night?” echoes Winifred, with a cloud passing over her face. “Then sha’n’t I be able to see them go this year, either?”
“I’m afraid not, little one.”
“Oh I am so sorry!” said the child with a deep sigh; “so very, very sorry. I did so want to see them go.”