"Ye-es," the girl came to life enough to reply absently. Dr. Morton turned to his wife with a triumphant grin. "Now, do you see why she didn't answer? She is several thousand miles and some hundreds of years away, and she can't get back in a hurry--blest be the concentration of childhood!" "What is it she's reading?" "Kennilworth. Amy Robsart is probably waiting for Leicester at this identical moment. Why return to prosaic errands and eggs when you can revel in a world of romance so easily?" "Father, you will ruin that child with your indulgence!" Mrs. Morton walked deliberately across the room and removed the book from her daughter's hands. Jane came to herself with a start. "Why, Mother!" "How many times have I told you, little daughter, that there is to be no novel-reading until your work and your practising are both done? Here I have been calling you for several minutes and you don't heed any more than if you were miles away. I shall put this book away till evening. Come, I want you to go over to Benton's and get me four dozen eggs." Jane got up inwardly protesting, and in so doing, tumbled the two surprised and grumbling pups upon the floor. She didn't mind doing the errand. She was unusually willing to be helpful though often very heedless about noticing that help was needed. "Can I go by the pasture, Father? It's a lot shorter than round by the road." "Yes, I think it's perfectly safe. There are only about thirty head of steers there now, and they won't pay any attention to you. Well, I must be off. Do you want anything from town, Mother?" "Yes, I have a list." "Get it ready, will you, while I go across and see what Marian's commissions are." "Across" meant across the road to the white cottage where Frank and Marian and their beloved baby daughter, Jill, lived. Little Jill was two and a half years old and everybody's pet, from Jim Bart, the hired man, to "Anjen," which was Jilly's rendering of Auntie Jane. Even Huz and Buz, the two collie pups, followed her about adoringly, licking her hands and face when opportunity offered, to her great indignation. "Do way, Huz, do way, Buz," was frequently heard, followed by a wail if their attentions persisted. The family watched Dr. Morton drive away in the spring wagon down the long tree-bordered lane. When he was out of sight, Jane picked up the egg basket and started off toward the pasture gate. "Where are you going, Chicken Little?" Marian called after her. "To Benton's for eggs." "To Benton's? Let me see, that's less than a quarter of a mile, isn't it? I wonder if you'd mind taking Jilly along. She could walk that far if you'd go slow, and it's such a lovely day, I'd like to have her out in the sunshine--and I'm horribly busy this morning." "Of course, I'll take her. Come on, Jilly, you lump of sweetness, we'll pick some pretty flowers. You aren't in a great hurry for the eggs, are you, Mother?"