IT was a December afternoon, and unusually mild for the season. The weather had been showery for days, and though the rain had kept off for several hours, heavy clouds still floated swiftly across the sky, driven by a westerly wind, throwing fleeting shadows over the emerald green meadows on the slope of Haresdown hill, and now and then obscuring the soft, pale rays of the setting sun. In the porch of the old parish church were seated Dinah and Dora Mickle with Angel Willis. They had been speaking of the latter's first visit to Wreyford with Mr. Bailey a year before; but now the little girls had hushed their voices to listen to the glad, clear notes of a robin, perched on a tombstone not more than a yard or so from the porch. The sweet songster warbled happily for several minutes, by no means disquieted by his audience; then, his cheery song concluded, he spread his wings and flew away. "I wonder if he was singing for our benefit," Angel said, smiling at the thought; "he seemed to be watching us with his sharp dark eyes— the dear thing!" "Yes, so he did," Dinah replied. "Robins are my favourite birds, because they sing in the winter when all the others are silent. Let me see, what was it we were talking about? Oh, I know! Yes, it must have been about a year ago when we first met you, Angel; I remember so well father calling me downstairs and introducing me to you." "Yes. And he told you to amuse me, and give me some tea," Angel broke in eagerly; "and, oh, how shy I felt when you led me upstairs, and into the dining-room!" "Yes!" Dora cried; "and Tom laughed at you, and afterwards Gilbert was nasty because he fancied you were staring at him because he was lame and walked with crutches. I'm afraid you didn't like us much." "There you are mistaken. I liked you and Dinah, you were so kind; and I think I loved your mother from the very first moment I saw her. Little did I think then that I should soon get to know you so well, or that my home would be at Wreyford too!" "It was that very day Dora and I discovered Haresdown House was taken," Dinah remarked reflectively; "I remember we had been for a walk, and had rested here just as we are doing this afternoon. I had been telling Dora all about poor old Ezekiel Hassal, who was parish clerk here in Oliver Cromwell's time—you know his story—and as we were going home we noticed the board had been taken down from the garden of Haresdown House. Then, when we reached home, Gilbert told us the place had been bought by an Australian gentleman, and whilst he was explaining to us what you and your uncle were like, we looked out of the window, and saw you and Mr. Bailey and father at the garden gate. Oh, Angel, how you have altered since then!" "Have I?" Angel exclaimed in surprise. "How? In what way do you mean?" "You've grown, and become plump and rosy. You used to be such a pale little thing, with large grey eyes that looked too big for your face," Dinah responded promptly.