The long expected lst of September at length arrived. “What sort of a day is it?” was the first question that was asked by Hal and Ben the moment that they wakened. The sun shone bright, but there was a sharp and high wind. “Ha!” said Ben, “I shall be glad of my good great-coat to-day; for I’ve a notion it will be rather cold upon the Downs, especially when we are standing still, as we must, whilst all the people are shooting.” “Oh, never mind! I don’t think I shall feel it cold at all,” said Hal, as he dressed himself in his new green and white uniform; and he viewed himself with much complacency. “Good morning to you, uncle; how do you do?” said he, in a voice of exultation, when he entered the breakfast-room. How do you do? seemed rather to mean, “How do you like me in my uniform?” And his uncle’s cool, “Very well, I thank you, Hal,” disappointed him, as it seemed only to say, “Your uniform makes no difference in my opinion of you.” Even little Patty went on eating her breakfast much as usual, and talked of the pleasure of walking with her father to the Downs, and of all the little things which interested her; so that Hal’s epaulettes were not the principal object in anyone’s imagination but his own. “Papa,” said Patty, “as we go up the hill where there is so much red mud, I must take care to pick my way nicely; and I must hold up my frock, as you desired me, and, perhaps, you will be so good, if I am not troublesome, to lift me over the very bad place where are no stepping-stones. My ankle is entirely well, and I’m glad of that, or else I should not be able to walk so far as the Downs. How good you were to me, Ben, when I was in pain the day I sprained my ankle! You played at jack straws and at cat’s-cradle with me. Oh, that puts me in mind—here are your gloves which I asked you that night to let me mend. I’ve been a great while about them; but are not they not very neatly mended, papa? Look at the sewing.” “I am not a very good judge of sewing, my dear little girl,” said Mr. Gresham, examining the work with a close and scrupulous eye; “but, in my opinion, here is one stitch that is rather too long. The white teeth are not quite even.” “Oh, papa, I’ll take out that long tooth in a minute,” said Patty, laughing; “I did not think that you would observe it so soon.” “I would not have you trust to my blindness,” said her father, stroking her head, fondly; “I observe everything. I observe, for instance, that you are a grateful little girl, and that you are glad to be of use to those who have been kind to you; and for this I forgive you the long stitch.” “But it’s out, it’s out, papa,” said Patty; “and the next time your gloves want mending, Ben, I’ll mend them better.”