Joyce was highly delighted at this prospect, and trotted along in her big white sun-bonnet, chattering as fast as her tongue would go. When we arrived at the poultry yard, Miss Cheriton filled her pinafore with grain and showed her where to throw it, and then picked up one of the downy yellow chicks for Reggie to kiss and hug; but he was so unwilling to part with it that we had some trouble to rescue the warm struggling thing; only the speckled hen was in such a fuss, clacking loudly in the midst of her brood. When we had exhausted the grain and had fed some grey rabbits, and had peeped in at the stables, and had bestowed a passing attention on the big St. Bernard in his kennel—Miss Cheriton’s chief favourite next to her brown mare, Bonnie—we sat down on a bench in the orchard, at some little distance from the beehives, while the children gathered daisies and buttercups. “I am so fond of this old orchard,” observed Miss Cheriton, as she threw down her empty basket and removed her gloves, showing a pair of small brown hands that looked very strong and capable; “when I have nothing else to do, I and my pets come here and enjoy the quiet. Do you know, the peacocks and pheasants will follow me all over the place as closely as a dog? They don’t mind Lion a bit; and he is as gentle as a lamb. On Sunday afternoon I have all the creatures round me. Adelaide declares I waste my time dreadfully with the beasties.” “They must give you plenty of occupation, Miss Cheriton,” for I have come to the conclusion that this girl was far from idle. The care of that extensive poultry-yard could be no sinecure’s office, besides which the beehives were her exclusive charge, though I heard afterwards the gardener’s son, Jim, was her under helper. All the live things about the place looked to her for food and comfort. She had a cage full of canaries in the conservatory, and a large grey parrot as well. “Oh, I am always with my pets and flowers until luncheon-time,” she remarked, carelessly; “Jim is a very handy boy, and helps me with the rough work. I was up at six this morning, and we had moved half the pots in the conservatory before breakfast. I am always up early, except in the winter; the world is not half awake at that time of the year, and certainly not well lighted.” “Those beehives must be a very profitable investment,” I observed, for I had heard before now that people had added largely to their incomes by keeping bees. “You would be surprised how much I make by my hives,” she returned. “I have only a limited interest in the poultry yard, and have to find chickens and eggs for the household, but the beehives are my own. I succeeded so well with them last year, and I believe I shall do just as well this autumn. I am very proud of my bees.” “It would not be a bad plan——” I began, and then I stopped, for I had spoken hastily, and how could I know if my words would be well received?