"Nay, I think it ought to be recognized for a pleasure. Here she comes.—
Well, Rotha, was the walk pleasant?"
"No."
"Indeed? Why not?"
"How could it be, Mr. Digby? Not a bit of good air, nor anything pleasant to see; just all hot and dirty."
"I thought you said there were some flowers in front of some of the shops?" her mother said.
"Yes, mother; but they looked melancholy."
"Did they?" said Mr. Digby smiling. "Suppose you go with me to-morrow, and I will take you to the Park."
"O! will you?" said Rotha with suddenly opening eyes. "Can you?"
"If Mrs. Carpenter permits."