But there were also other and larger affairs, more important in every sense of the word,—proper picnics, at which several parties joined,—the Johnsons, Dr. Rowntree and his sister, Mrs. Parker, Eleanor; and on one or two occasions, even Michael had managed to snatch a day and join them, leaving his work to his assistant. On one of these days when he was present, they explored Deepdale; on another they managed to climb ‘Catcastle Crag.’ On both of these occasions it was noticed that Michael’s behaviour was marked by an unaccountable levity, and Miss Askam’s by a kind of laughing apprehension. She, too, seemed to see jokes where no one else could detect them. Michael, indeed, went so far as to tell the children that this was not the first time that Miss Askam had been to Catcastle, and having by means of sundry mysterious hints roused their curiosity to fever pitch, and set them to attack her with every kind of question they could think of, he fell into the rear, and conversed with Mrs. Parker, leaving Eleanor to baffle them as best she could. They happened to be alone for a few moments on the occasion of the Deepdale expedition, and he seized the opportunity to say— ‘I notice that you still retain that ingenuous youth, William, for your special body-servant; I suppose it is his complete incapacity which recommends him to you? You do not like to dismiss him, because you are quite sure no one else would take him on; and you think it is better that he should have the semblance of an occupation than that you should have to support him by charity.’ ‘You wrong poor William, Mr. Langstroth. He is a very good servant, and a most faithful creature.’ ‘So I should fancy. He knows the country almost as well as his mistress does, and has such wonderful presence of mind, as to make him invaluable in any emergency.’ ‘Well, I think he has the presence of mind, at any rate, to know when help was nigh.’ ‘Say, rather, the power of lung to invoke that help when it was afar off. You don’t know what a long way I rode back, summoned by that unearthly yell of his.’ Eleanor laughed. ‘Poor William!’ she said. ‘Ah, I do admire William. Do you see, he knows we are talking about him, and the children are beginning to be suspicious too. I believe William fears we are going to ask him to act as guide to some place. Would you mind my catechising him a little on the geography of the district? It would keep him up to the mark, you know, and would be such a useful thing for the children as well.’ ‘Please don’t, Mr. Langstroth. You will make me look ridiculous before them all.’ ‘If I have seen you looking ridiculous, and if William has seen you looking ridiculous,’ said Michael, ‘as we certainly did, you know, on a never-to-be-forgotten occasion, what can it matter if a set of children and their mother see the same thing?’