"The refreshment has been brought to me by the hands of your young Hebe," Mrs. More said, smiling. "As to alighting, my limbs are stiff with age, and when once ensconced in my easy old chariot I am unwilling to leave it. But, Mr. Falconer, I came with a petition, for what is, I am sure, a precious possession: let me have your daughter at Barley Wood for a month. I hope, God willing, to return your treasure, with interest on the loan. Do not refuse me." "Thank you kindly, madam," said the squire; "but her mother must be consulted. Her little brothers demand much of her attention in the holidays, and Joyce has to share her mother's labours in many ways. I fear she cannot be spared. What say you, my Sunshine?" "I could not be spared yet, father; but later--" adding, with glistening eyes--"I should like to go to Barley Wood." The squire put his arm round his daughter, and said: "And I should like you to have the pleasure; but your mother----" "Well, well," Mrs. More said, "then we will leave it, subject to certain conditions. The Bible meeting at Wrington comes on early in July. I shall have many excellent friends as my guests then, and the little Sunshine--I like that name vastly--might dispense a little brightness amongst us, and receive some solid good from intercourse with my friend. May I hope to see you early in July?" "We will see about it, madam," the squire said; "and both Sunshine and I feel gratified by your kind proposal." "Well, then, we leave it so, and I trust to you to drop me a line, my child, when your visit can be made. We shall find a corner for you and your cousin--if only a pigeonhole. You will not grumble, I dare say, but nestle in comfortably." "The sun is getting low, dearest Mrs. More," Miss Frowde said; "we should be starting homewards." "Yes, you are right." Then drawing from a large basket some books, Mrs. More singled out one, and, bending down towards Joyce, said: "This is the best of books; in it is to be found treasures of riches and knowledge. Accept the Bible from me, as a token of desire that now, in the days of your youth, you may find the Pearl of great price. No one can object to _this gift_, though objection to other books may be urged." Joyce took the Bible with a low-spoken "Thank you!" and her father glancing at it, said: "You are very good to my little daughter, and I, at least, am grateful." The squire had been secretly hoping that his wife would change her mind and appear, but his hopes were not realised. The carriage rolled off at a leisurely even pace; the good-byes were said, but Mrs. Falconer did not appear. "It is a pity mother did not come," Joyce said. "What a lovely old lady Mrs. More is." "Yes," and the squire sighed. "You have got a Bible, Joyce." "An old one, not like this," Joyce said, "with gilt edges and such a nice purple binding; and I like to have it from Mrs. More. See, father, there are pencil marks in it."