Mr. Herbert was impressed by the boy's earnestness. "I will speak to your father," he said. Then the two went back to the sitting-room, where they found Abraham Leigh much exercised by some difficult questions propounded by Miss Herbert respecting the nature of Apollyon. "Take my little girl for a walk round the garden," said Mr. Herbert to young Leigh. "I want to speak to your father." In spite of the great gulf between her and the clay-bespattered boy in his shirt sleeves, the little princess was too glad of a change of scene to wish to disobey her father. She followed her conductor to the back of the house, and the boy and girl stepped out into the autumnal sunshine. The little maid looked so trim and dainty in her neat riding-habit, coquettish hat and tiny gloves that his own draggled appearance struck the boy forcibly. "If you will excuse me a minute," he said, "I will run and wash my hands." "Yes; I think it will be better," said Miss Herbert, with dignity. In a minute or two young Leigh returned. He had found time not only to wash the rich red clay from his long, well-shaped fingers, but to slip on his coat and generally beautify himself. His improved appearance had a great effect upon the child, who, like most of her age, was influenced by exteriors. So Miss Herbert, this little great lady, unbent and allowed "Jerry" to lead her round the old-fashioned garden, to the out-houses and pigsties, where the obese pigs lay oblivious of what fate had in store for them; to the stables; to the dairy, where she condescended to drink a glass of new milk, and by the time they had returned to the garden the two were as good friends as their different stations in life would permit. Young Leigh, who saw in this dainty little maid the incarnation of fairies, nymphs, goddesses, and other ideals which, in a dim way, were forming themselves in his brain, endeavored, after his first shyness had passed away, to show her what beautiful shapes and forms could be found in flower, leaf, and tree, and other things in nature. His talk, indeed, soared far above her pretty little head, and when they returned to the garden he was trying to make her see that those masses of white clouds low down in the distance were two bodies of warriors just about to meet in deadly fray. "You are a very, very funny boy," said Miss Herbert, with such an air of conviction that he was startled into silence. "Your name is Jerry, isn't it?" she continued. "Jerry's an ugly name." "My name is Gerald--Gerald Leigh." "Oh; Gerald!" Even this child could see the impropriety of a tenant farmer having a son named Gerald. No wonder Abraham Leigh addressed his boy as Jerry! "Do you like being a farmer?" she asked. "I am not going to be a farmer; I don't like it." "What a pity! Farmers are such a worthy, respectable class of men," said the girl, using a stock phrase she had caught up somewhere.