Meditating deeply upon this strange affair, the parson plodded homewards, for now he knew his way, with the Murdererʼs Oak for his landmark. At last he saw his quiet home, and gave a very gentle knock, because it was so late. The door was opened by Amy herself, pale, excited, and jumping. “Oh, daddy, daddy!” Chock—chock—chock—such a lot of kisses, and both arms round his neck. “Corculum, voluptas, glycymelon, anima mea——” “Oh, papa, say ‘Amy dear,’ and then I shall know it is you.” Then she laughed, and then she cried, and presently fell to at kissing again. I am afraid she proved herself a fool; but allowance must be made for her, because she had never learned before how to get on without her father. “Oh, you beautiful love of a daddy! I was quite sure you would come, you know; that you could not leave me any longer; so I would not listen to a single word any one of them said. And I kept the kitchen fire up, and a good fire in your pet room, dear; and I have got such a supper for you! Now, off with your coat in a minute, darling. Oh, how poorly you look, my own father! But we will soon put you to rights again. Aunt Doxy is gone to bed, hurrah! and so are Jemima and Jenny. And she wonʼt have the impudence to come down, with all her hair in the jelly–bags, so I shall have you all to myself, dada; and if any one can deserve you, I do.” “My own pet child, my warm–hearted dear,” said John, with the tears in his eyes; “I had not the least idea that your mind was so ill–regulated. We must have a course of choriambics together, or the heavy trimacrine dimeter, as I have ventured to name it, about which——” “About which not another short syllable, till you have had a light tri–mackerel supper, and not a quasi–cæsura left even.” “Why, Amy, you are getting quite witty!” And John, with one arm still in his overcoat, looked at her bright eyes wonderingly. “Of course I am, dad, when you come home. My learning sparkles at sight of you. Come, quick now, for fear of my eating you before you begin your supper. Youʼll have it in the kitchen, you know, dear, because it will be so much nicer; and then a pipe by the book–room fire, and a chat with your good little daughter. O father, father, mind you never go away from me such a long, long time again.” John thought to himself that, ere many years, he must go away from his Amy for much more than a fortnight; but of course he would not damp her young joy with any such troubles now.