"You don't mean Mrs. Coombes, papa?"

"No, my dear. I did not hear she was ill."

"O, I daresay it is nothing much. Only old nursey said yesterday she was in
bed with a bad cold, or something of that sort."

"We'll call and inquire as we pass,--that is, if you are inclined to go
with me."

"How can you put an _if_ to that, papa?"

"I have just had a message from that cottage that stands all alone on the
corner of Mr. Barton's farm--over the cliff, you know--that the woman is
ill, and would like to see me. So the sooner we start the better."

"I shall have done my breakfast in five minutes, papa. O, here's
mamma!--Mamma, I'm going out for a walk in the rain with papa. You won't
mind, will you?"

"I don't think it will do you any harm, my dear. That's all I mind, you
know. It was only once or twice when you were not well that I objected to
it. I quite agree with your papa, that only lazy people are _glad_ to stay
in-doors when it rains."

"And it does blow so delightfully!" said Wynnie, as she left the room to
put on her long cloak and her bonnet.

We called at the sexton's cottage, and found him sitting gloomily by the
low window, looking seaward.