"I should not hate it," he murmured, "if we could spend it together."
"Here is Mrs. Lennard looking for me," exclaimed Elsie hastily. "I have lost sight of her too long."
She went quickly towards her old friend, who received her with questioning eyes.
"You are getting too warm, my dear," Mrs. Lennard said. "Come and sit down in a cool spot. Mrs. Appleby has been wanting to chat with you; she knew your mother years ago."
Elsie found Mrs. Appleby on a camp-stool under the beeches, and sank down on the grass by her side. Mrs. Lennard took possession of Jamie, and kept him quiet by telling him an enchanting story.
The talk about old days soothed Elsie, and brought her, unawares, into a better state of mind. Mrs. Appleby knew nothing of the storm that she was helping to still. She chatted on, pleasantly and calmly, about those who had done with all storms for ever and ever; and by-and-by the young woman beside her began to remember that the struggle is short, and the rest long.
They were drinking tea under the trees when the wanderers came dropping in, by twos and threes, from all points of the compass. Among the latest were Arnold and Mrs. Verdon—a goodly pair.
People smiled furtively, and exchanged meaning glances when these two arrived. Arnold's eyes sought for the person who still interested him above all others, in spite of the shock she had given him. His heart was comforted when he saw her sitting quietly under a gigantic beech by an old lady's side.
"Dear Elsie," Jamie whispered, "I've had enough tea. It'll soon be my bedtime. Take me down to the boat and let me have just one row more, and then give me to nurse."
At the same moment Mrs. Lennard was addressing Francis in her most persuasive voice.