Then she raised her voice.
"My dear, what a ramble you must have made. Come and have a shady chair and some tea."
For answer Marcella, laughing, held up a glorious bunch of cuckoo-pint and marsh marigold, while little Hallin at her skirts waved another trophy of almost equal size. The mother's dark face was flushed with exercise and pleasure. As she moved over the grass, the long folds of a white dress falling about her, the flowers in her hand, the child beside her, she made a vision of beauty lovely in itself and lovely in all that it suggested. Frank joy and strength, happiness, purity of heart—these entered with her. One could almost see their dim heavenly shapes in the air about her.
Neither Letty nor Mrs. Allison could take their eyes from her. Perhaps she knew it. But if she did, it made no difference to her perfect ease of bearing. She greeted Letty kindly.
"You didn't expect to see me here, did you, Lady Tressady? But it is the unexpected that happens."
Then she put her hand on Mrs. Allison's shoulder, bending her height to her small hostess.
"What a day, and what a place! Hallin and I have been over hill and dale. But he is getting such a botanist, the little monkey! He will hardly forgive me because I forgot one of the flowers we found out yesterday in his botany book."
"She said it was 'Robin-run-in-the-'edge,' and it isn't—it's 'edge mustard," said Hallin, severely, holding up a little feathery stalk.
Mrs. Allison shook her head, endeavouring to suit her look to the gravity of the offence.
"Mother must learn her lessons better, mustn't she? Go and shake hands, little man, with Lady Tressady."