"I like him," the child said with a nod; "but I would rather be with
you, you know."

"And the lady will teach you to read, Aggie. You have learned your
letters, you know."

Aggie shook her head, to show that this part of the programme was not
particularly to her liking.

"Do you think the boy will play with me, grampa?"

"I daresay he will, Aggie, when you are very good; and you must never
forget, you know, that he saved your life. Just think how unhappy I
should be, if he had not got you out of the water."

"The water was cold and nasty," Aggie said, "and it seemed so warm and
nice to my hands. Aggie won't go near the water any more. Of course, if
the boy is with me I can go, because he won't let me tumble in.

"Shall I get into the basket now, grampa? I is tired."

"Oh, nonsense, little woman! you have not walked half a mile yet.
Anyhow, you must trot along until you get to the top of this hill, then
you shall have a lift for a bit."

And so, with the child sometimes walking and sometimes riding,
sometimes asleep in her basket and sometimes chatting merrily to her
grandfather, the pair made their way across the country towards Exeter.

There was no little talk in Sidmouth when, on the following Sunday, the