But there had been no outpouring--nothing out of the common.
"You should have----" said Ned, and paused.
"What?" asked Ted.
"Nothing, except that it must be about time for us to be going back--to Paradise!"
[CHAPTER IV]
Aurelia in a blessed white frock, looking like a Botticelli angel, was in the garden talking to old Adam. She received their half-hearted apologies for return with a fine superiority.
"Of course," she said, "we all knew you were coming. Martha was unkind enough to kill a beautiful white chicken for you, and there is raspberry tart, and curds and cream. Oh yes! and I made a sponge-cake for tea. So you ought to have enough I'm sure. Now, before we go in, I do want to find my Ourisia coccinea, and Adam has mislaid it. Now, Adam, do think! and please don't say the underground mice have eaten the label, for I'm sure they haven't--it would be a miracle, you know, if they did."
Here she turned to her companions with shining eyes.
"You see, Adam believes in boggles and miracles, and all sorts of queer things, though he isn't Welsh. And to-day there was a miracle in church."
"A miracle," echoed Ned, flushing slightly and wondering more.