off her dark eyes and olive complexion more richly than the simple picnic
dress of white, trimmed with a little crimson braid about the neck and
sleeves, which she wore to-day. It was gathered up at the bottom for
wandering in the woods, just enough to show the little boots. She looked
surprised at seeing him, and exclaimed--

"You haven't come to tell me that the picnic is put off again, or Laura's
sick?"

"The picnic is all right, and Laura too. I've come to carry your basket
for you."

"Why, you're really very kind," said she, as if she thought him slightly
officious.

"Don't you remember you told me I might do so?" he said, getting a little
red under her cool inspection.

"When did I?"

"Two weeks ago, that evening poor George spoke in meeting."

"Oh!" she answered, smiling, "so long ago as that? What a terrible memory
you have! Come in just a moment, please; I'm nearly ready."

Whether she merely took his word for it, or whether she had remembered
her promise perfectly well all the time, and only wanted to make him ask
twice for the favour, lest he should feel too presumptuous, I don't
pretend to know. Mrs. Brand set a chair for him with much cordiality. She
was a gentle, mild-mannered little lady, such a contrast in style and