"Not but what the old trees will last my time," he told her smilingly, "but one must look ahead, and not live for self alone. Ah, I knew these trees as saplings, for my father planted this orchard, and I've not forgotten the taste of the fruit, or the names of the different apples I used to fancy when I was a boy. Butter-boxes! Quarantines! Barter's beauties! Ah, my dear, your grandfather and I knew the best sorts for eating, and I've no doubt you and Gerald will gain the same knowledge when autumn comes." She thought it very possible. There was a rustic seat in one corner of the orchard upon which they sat down, whilst he turned the conversation to the subject of school, and inquired how she had done that morning; whereupon she told him that she was not as far behind other girls of her age in general knowledge as she had feared she would be, which happy state of affairs she put down to her having always assisted Gerald with his home lessons. "I know I shall like it at school," she said earnestly, "and I mean to learn all I can. Dinah Mickle is such a kind girl; she has introduced me to several of her friends, and she has promised to help me about anything I do not understand." "That is certainly very kind of her," Mr. Mickle agreed; "a helping hand is of great value sometimes. I am glad you like the Mickle children. Do you know it is settled that Gilbert is to take drawing and painting lessons from your father? Mr. Mickle called here this afternoon, and the matter was arranged. Your father wanted to give Gilbert the lessons, but Mr. Mickle objected to that, and insisted on paying, which, as a business man, I think quite right. So the lad is to come every Saturday afternoon for a couple of hours. Do you favour the idea?" "Oh yes, Uncle Edward, if you and father do. Oh, don't you think father is ever so much better?" "Yes, thank God! I have an idea it may turn-out that illness of his was for the best after all. It was a sad disappointment about his picture; but when Providence interposes and prevents our carrying out the work we had intended, I think we may rest assured that there's a wiser hand than ours guiding our affairs. What do you say, my dear?" "I am sure you are right, Uncle Edward. Mother used to talk to me like that, and say we must have faith in God, even when we can't see the reason for what He does." "And that happens so often, doesn't it, child? But God's sight is clear where ours is dim; and if He denies us something on which we have set our hearts, often it is to give us a greater blessing still. He knows best, that's certain. 'We walk by faith, and not by sight,' you know."