“Oh, yes, you were. No use denying it. And so far as I'm concerned, I've done a good morning's work already. And, I propose that we go and join your father in the park--if you know where to find him?” “Oh, yes, I know where to find him. Shall I put on my things? One sitting, more or less--if it's going to take so very, very long--won't count, will it?” A few moments later they had entered the park, and were sauntering down a sunlit pathway. Christine's hair glowed like a web of fine flames. Roses bloomed in her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled. She vowed that there had never before been such a delicious day. How soft the air was, and yet how crisp! How sweet it smelled! How exquisitely the leafless branches of the trees, gilded by the sunshine, were penciled against the deep blue of the sky! The sunshine transfigured every thing. What rich and varied colors it brought out upon the landscape! What reds, what purples, what yellows! Had Mr. Bacharach ever seen any thing equal to it? Was it not a keen pleasure merely to breathe, merely to exist, upon such a day? By and by they turned a corner, and came upon a bench. “Oh,” exclaimed Christine, halting abruptly, “he's not here.” “Who?” Elias asked. “Why, my father.” “Oh, to be sure; I had forgotten.” “This is his favorite bench. He always sits here. Now, what can have become of him?” “Perhaps he has walked on a little.” “I suppose he has. But he can't have gone far. He never does. We'll soon overtake him.” At the end of another quarter hour, however, they had not yet overtaken him. “I'm afraid we've missed him,” she said; “though it's very strange, because he never goes anywhere else, but just in this direction. I think we may as well give up the search. But I'm a little tired, and would you mind sitting down and resting for a moment before turning back?” “I should like nothing better; only, I must warn you that I haven't the remotest notion how we are to find our way out of here. The paths we have taken have been so crooked, I've entirely lost my reckoning.” “Ah, but I--I know the park by heart. I could find my way anywhere in it, blindfold, I think.” “Indeed? How did you get so well acquainted?” “Oh, we've lived within a stone's throw of it all my life. When I was a little girl I used to play here. Then I had to cross it twice a day, when I went to the Normal College. And since then I've made a practice of taking long walks here every afternoon. There's scarcely a tree or stone that I'm not familiar with; and I've discovered lots of delightful little places--nooks and corners--that nobody else suspects the existence of. Sometime I'd like to show you some of them. They'd be splendid to paint.” By this time they were seated. “Oh, thank you,” said Elias, “that will be charming. And so, you went to the Normal College?” “Yes; I graduated there last spring.” “Graduated! Why, I shouldn't have thought you were old enough!” “How old do you think I am?” “Seventeen?”