"Why, of course, my dear. Do you think I have forgotten that? What do you take me for?" "Whether we live in a house or a caravan we must have bread and milk and eggs--" "And butter and bacon," interpolated Kingsley. "You see, I know." "And clothes." "And coffee--black coffee, very strong, that's how I like it." "All these things would have to be paid for, Kingsley." "I suppose so--I mean, of course, they must be." "How, Kingsley, dear?" "Ah, howl" he said, vaguely, drumming on the table with his fingers. "That," said Nansie, with pretty decision, "is what we have to consider." "Of course, of course. We _are_ considering it. Is it your opinion that the caravan idea is not practicable?" "Yes, Kingsley." "Then away it goes," said Kingsley, with the air of a man from whom a great weight of responsibility has been suddenly lifted; "away it goes, with the piano, and the nice furniture, and the birds, and the wild flowers in the summer woods. I take off my hat to the caravan, though," he added, with a tendency to relapse, "I shall always regret it; the life would have been so beautiful and pleasant." "We will endeavor," said Nansie, tenderly, "to make our life so in another way." "Certainly we will, my dearest," responded Kingsley, heartily. "There are a thousand ways." And yet he looked about now with a slight distress in his manner, as though he could not see an open door. But he soon shook off the doubt, and the next minute was the same blithe, bright being he had always been. "Let us go for a walk, Nansie," he said. CHAPTER XV. How sweet are the Surrey lanes and woods, especially round about Godalming! Innumerable are the pictures which artists have found there and fixed upon canvas to delight and instruct. In spring and summer peeps of fairyland reveal themselves almost at every turn. Small forests of straight and stately trees are there, full of solemn visions, lifting one's thoughts heavenward, and attuning the soul to more than earthly glory. The earth is carpeted with wonders, and the air is fragrant with subtle perfumes. The gentle declivities are clothed in beauty, and the wondrous variety of greens and browns are a marvel to behold. It was a balmy night, and the skies were full of stars. A clear pool reflected them, and Nansie and Kingsley stood upon the rustic bridge and looked down in silence and love and worship. "In the method of my education, my dear Nansie," said Kingsley, as they walked from the bridge into the stillness of the woods, "I recognize now one end." "What end, Kingsley?" asked Nansie, looking up at him in hope.