great sigh.

The girl nestled up close to him. She was trembling with excess of
feeling.

"And I have missed you," she answered. "How is the mother?"

"I suppose she is all right, Nora; but there, upon my word, she does
vex me sometimes. Take the horse to the stables, and don't stand
staring there, Peter Jones." The Squire said these latter words on
account of the fixed stare of a pair of bright black eyes like sloes
in the head of the little chap who had brought the trap for Nora. He
whipped up the pony, turned briskly round, and drove away.

"Come out for a bit with me round the grounds, Nora. It's vexed I
am, sometimes; I feel I cannot stand things. I wish my lady would
not have all those fine airs. But there, I have no right to talk
against your mother to you, child; and of course she is your mother,
and I am desperately proud of her. There never was her like for
beauty and stateliness; but sometimes she tries me."

"Oh! I know, father; I know. But let's go round and look at the new
calf and the colt. We can spare an hour--can we not?"

"Yes; come along quick, Nora," answered the Squire, all smiles and
jokes once more. "The mother doesn't know you have come back, and we
can have a pleasant hour to ourselves."