'Oh, Stanley! is it you?'

And before he could answer, she had thrown her arms about his neck and
kissed him two or three times. Laughingly, half-resisting, the young man
waited till her enthusiastic salutation was over, and with one gloved
hand caressingly on her shoulder, and with the other smoothing his
ruffled moustache, he laughed a little more, a quiet low laugh. He was
not addicted to stormy greetings, and patted his sister's shoulder
gently, his arm a little extended, like a man who tranquillises a
frolicsome pony.

'Yes, Radie, you see I've found you out;' and his eye wandered, still
smiling oddly, over the front of her quaint habitation.

'And how have you been, Radie?'

'Oh, very well. No life like a gardener's--early hours, work, air, and
plenty of quiet.' And the young lady laughed.

'You are a wonderful lass, Radie.'

'Thank you, dear.'

'And what do you call this place?'

'"The Happy Valley," _I_ call it. Don't you remember "Rasselas?"'

'No,' he said, looking round him; 'I don't think I was ever there.'

'You horrid dunce!--it's a book, but a stupid one--so no matter,' laughed