persistent endeavour at accuracy.

'How can she bear that morning after morning?' the young man murmured to
himself.

He took his straw hat and went round to the stables. Oberon was being
groomed. Wilfrid patted the horse's sleek neck, and talked a little with
the man. At length he made up his mind to go and prepare for riding;
Oberon would be ready for him in a few minutes.

In the porch Patty ran to meet him.

'Truant!' Wilfrid exclaimed. 'Have I caught you in the act of escape?'

'I was going to look for you,' said the child, putting her arm through
his and swinging upon him. 'We want to know if you'll be back for
lunch.'

'Who wants to know?'

'I and Minnie and Miss Hood.'

'Oh, you are Patty, then, are you?'

This was an old form of joke. The child shook her dark curls with a
half-annoyed gesture, but still swung on her cousin as he moved into the
house. Wilfrid passed his arm about her playfully.

'Can't you make up your mind, Wilf?' she asked.