"Oh, no!" answered the boy, quickly, "it's nothing like that, Uncle Richard! It's—it's—oh, it's will you take a walk?"
Trafford's forehead began to wrinkle and slowly gather the shade of gloom which seemed always hovering about him, even in his most cheerful moments; but before it had time to cover the man's brow, and before he could utter a refusal, Noll's hand was endeavoring to smooth away the wrinkles, and he was saying,—
"There, don't say 'No,'—don't, Uncle Richard! I won't ask you to go again if you are not pleased with this walk, but this time—just this once—do say 'Yes,' uncle! There can't be a pleasanter afternoon in the whole year than this, and I've walked alone, always till now. Why, Uncle Richard, you won't say 'No' this time?"
Trafford hesitated, a refusal trembling on his lips, which he did not quite wish to utter. The boy had walked alone, he remembered, and it was a very simple request to grant; and if it was going to be such a pleasure and gratification to Noll, why not yield, and for once put aside his own preferences and inclinations? It is not an easy matter for a man who has lived only for himself and his own pleasure to put the gratification of these aside to give place to the happiness and comfort of another; but, with an effort, Trafford put his books away, and rose from his chair, saying,—
"This once, Noll,—this once. One walk with me will suffice you, I think. When shall we start?"
"Now,—at once, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, joyfully; "it's two o'clock already, and the tide a long, long way out. Don't let's wait a minute longer."
Trafford smiled a little at his nephew's eagerness, and taking his hat, followed the boy to the piazza. It was a great change from the half-gloom of the library, and the chilliness of the long, dark halls, to the bright, sunny piazza, where the light fell so warm and broadly, and from whence the blue and shining sea stretched far and wide and vast.
Noll felt sure that Uncle Richard must notice it and rejoice, even though it might be secretly. From east to west there were no clouds, and nothing to hinder the sun-beams from finding the earth and working wondrous charms on land and rock and sea. They stood for a few minutes there, one of them, at least, enjoying the wide view very much, then Noll said,—
"We'll go up the shore, if you'd as lief, Uncle Richard. It's much pleasanter that way, I think."
"Very well," said Trafford, with an indifference which was not encouraging, and they passed down the steps on to the sand. It was a silent and uncomfortable walk for the first few rods, Trafford walking with his head bowed upon his breast and looking only at the yellow sand upon which he trod. He seemed to have no eyes for the calm and gentle peace which had descended upon that afternoon, robbing the sea of its terror and making it enchanting and lovely, and weaving a mystic charm about the bare, bald Rock basking warm and purple under the sun. Even the waves murmured only softly and soothingly and with drowsy echoes, as they rippled in and out among the rocks and along the sand. Fortunately for their pleasure, Noll picked up a curious pebble before they had gone a great way. It was not an agate, nor was it like the rounded pebbles of porphyry which the tide washed up, and puzzling over this, and asking Uncle Richard, at last, to explain its nature, somehow broke the heavy silence which had been between them, and questions and pleasant talk came naturally enough after this.