dreadful as it is." Then in a minute, "What made you think of coming
here after him?"

"I think it's so wonderful." The child's eyes enlarged as she peered
through the fence again at the scarlet bird.

"Lolly, child! I'm glad to hear you say that," said Mrs. Martha,
strongly. "He's far above and beyond--he's a very holy man."

Winifred perceived now that she was talking of old Cameron, and she
thought it more polite not to explain that she had misunderstood.
Indeed, all other interests in her mind became submerged in wonder
concerning the old man as thus presented.

"He's mad, isn't he?"

"No, he isn't."

"I knew he was very good, but couldn't he be good and mad too?"

"No," said Mrs. Martha; and the serious assertion had all the more
effect because it stood alone, unpropped by a single reason.

"When I've milked the Principal's special cow I often come here of a
morning, and sometimes I see the saint walking under the trees. I don't
mind telling you, child, for you've a head older than yer years, but you
mustn't speak of it again. I'd not like folks to know."

"I won't tell," whispered Winifred, eagerly. She felt inexpressibly
honoured by the confidence. "Do you think he'll come out now?" Awe and