Thus Percival was several weeks with Aunt Maggie before he left her for Rollo--and Dora. Pleasant weeks he found them, reclaiming all the old friends (save that one whose grave only was now to be visited) and in their company, and in the new affection that they gave him for his strong young manhood, retasting again the happy, happy time of earlier days. There were jolly teas with the Purdies, brother and sister; plump Mr. Purdie never tired of saying, with quite the most absurd of his shrill, ridiculous chuckles, "Why, you've grown into a regular man and I expected to see a swarthy gipsy with earrings and a red neckcloth!", birdlike little Miss Purdie, more birdlike than ever with her little hops and nods and her "Now _fancy_ you coming to take me to the Great Letham Church Bazaar! I was _wanting_ to go. But you're _not_ to be extravagant, Percival. At Christmas you were _dreadful_. You _don't_ know the value of money!" And there were almost daily visits to Mr. Hannaford, Stingo with him now till the road was to be taken again, who found Percival a proper full-size marvel now, and blessed his eighteen stun proper if he didn't, whose little 'orse farm was developing amazingly, who displayed it and who discussed it with Percival to the tune of leg-and-cane cracks of almost incredible volume, and who placed at Percival's entire disposal a little riding 'orse, three parts blood and one part fire, that showed him to possess a seat and hands that any little 'orse oughter be proud to carry, "bless my eighteen stun proper if he didn't!" (Crack!) And there were thoughts of Dora ... who soon must be met and whom to meet he burned (his darling!) and feared (his darling and his goddess!--too rare, too exquisite for him, as tracery of frost upon the window-pane that touch or breath will break or tarnish!). Thus he thought of her; thus to help his thoughts often walked over to closed Abbey Royal; thus never could approach the gates without the thought that if, by some miracle, he met her there he could not dare approach her. He would steal away at her approach, he knew. Watch her if, unseen, he might unseen adore her--mark her perfect beauty, breathless see her breathe; watch her poised to listen to some bird that hymned her coming; watch her stoop to greet some flower's fragrance with her own. Watch the happy grasses take her feet and watch those others, benisoned and scented by the border of her gown; watch the tumbling breezes give her path and only kiss her--see them race along the leaves to give her minstrelsy. Speak to her?--how should he dare? III