The sunbonnet gave an upward jerk in his direction and the wearer
shrilled out:

"Doctor's come! Wantin' yer Uncle!"

The old man, who had been so long quietly seated on the upturned
barrel, now rose stiffly, and knocking out the ashes of his pipe
turned towards the farmhouse. But before he went he raised his
straw hat again and stood for a moment bareheaded in the roseate
glory of the sinking sun. Innocent sprang upright on the load of
hay, and standing almost at the very edge of it, shaded her eyes
with one hand from the strong light, and looked at him.

"Dad!" she called--"Dad, shall I come?"

He turned his head towards her.

"No, lass, no! Stay where you are, with Robin."

He walked slowly, and with evident feebleness, across the length
of the field which divided him from the farmhouse garden, and
opening the green gate leading thereto, disappeared. The sun-
bonneted individual called Priscilla walked or rather waddled
towards the hay-waggon, and setting her arms akimbo on her broad
hips, looked up with a grin at the young people on top.

"Well! Ye're a fine couple up there! What are ye a-doin' of?"

"Never mind what we're doing," said Robin, impatiently. "I say,
Priscilla, do you think Uncle Hugo is really ill?"