shall be clothed with thunder, and we shall say, 'Ha! ha!' among
the trumpets. And will you bind my wounds, Beloved?" he added,
looking up in Hildegarde's face. "And will you give me my shield,
and tell me to come back with it or upon it? Will you do that? The
cover of the washboiler will do beautifully for a shield."

"So it will!" said Hildegarde; and they went into the house
together.





CHAPTER III.

PUMPKIN HOUSE.




When Mrs. Grahame and Hildegarde went to call on their new
neighbours, two days after the meeting in the garden, they found
them already entirely at home, the house looking as if they had
always lived in it. The furniture was plain, and showed marks of
hard usage; but there were plenty of pictures, and the right kind
of pictures, as Hildegarde said to herself, with satisfaction; and
there were books,--books everywhere. In the wide, sunny sitting-
room, into which they were ushered by a pleasant-faced maid, low
bookcases ran all round the walls, and were not only filled, but
heaped with books, the volumes lying in piles along the top. The