Odd | Page 7

greatest friends.
'He be the pluckiest, knowingest little chap that ever oi see wi' such a baby face!' was the carter's opinion of him.
'If it's a very nice wood perhaps I'll come,' said Betty.
'You must save something from dinner to take with us, for we will have a feast when we get there.'
This sounded delightful, and all spent the rest of the day in busy confabulation as to how they could get there without being stopped by any one, and what provisions they must take.
But, alas! when the next day came, nurse announced her intention of taking Douglas and Molly with her to tea with a friend, a little distance off, and so the visit to the wood was postponed.
Betty pleaded to be allowed to go with them, but nurse refused.
'I can't have more than two; and I'm taking them more to keep them out of mischief than anything. Mrs. Giles is going to look after the little ones, so you must amuse yourself.'
Betty felt rather disconsolate after they had gone. She wandered into the farm kitchen, where Mrs. Giles, a good-natured, smiling woman, was busy making bread. The twins were in a corner playing with some kittens. Betty stood at the table watching. At last she looked up a little shyly and said,--
'Mrs. Giles, do you know a very nice governess that lives here?'
'A guviness, bless your little heart. There's Miss Tyler in the village, two mile off--but I don't think much of her. She's too giddy and smart, and the way she carries on with Dan Somers is the talk of the place! Are you after having lessons then?'
'Oh no, no, no!' cried Betty eagerly, 'that's why I don't talk about it to any one; but I should like to see her, for I have a message to give her. I don't think it can be Miss Tyler; Mother Nestor--I forget the name, but something like Nestor or Nasher--Mr. Roper called her. She's old and young together, and very pretty.'
Mrs. Giles laughed. 'Old and young together! I know of nought like that; when we gets old, youth don't stick to us. Do you think I answer to that description, Miss Betty?'
'I should say you were very old,' observed Betty reflectively, 'not a bit young; but I think your red cheeks are very pretty.'
Mrs. Giles laughed again, and Betty left the kitchen saying, 'I'll go out of doors and look for her; perhaps she'll be coming along the road.'
Into the bright sunshine she went, across a clover field, and out at a gate into the white, dusty road. She trotted along, picking flowers by the wayside, and peeping over hedges to look at the tiny lambs or young foals and heifers sporting on the green grass. Everything was new and delightful to her; the birds singing, the budding trees, the bright blue sky, and sweet fresh air, all was filling her little heart with content and happiness. Wandering on, she kept no reckoning of time or distance, until she came to a church in the midst of green elms, and rooks keeping up a perpetual chatteration on the topmost branches of the trees.
Betty was a little afraid of rooks; they were so big and strong and black that she feared they would peck her legs; but she was very tired and warm, and as the church-gate was open she thought she would venture into the cool shade of the elms inside. Her little steps took her to the church porch, and finding the door partly open, with a child's curiosity, she pushed her way in, there to stand with admiring awe in the cool, quiet atmosphere. It was a pretty old church, with stained glass windows; and the sun streaming through sent flashing rays of red and blue, golden and purple, across the old stone walls and oaken seats.
Betty felt she was in another world at once, and the very novelty and strangeness of her surroundings had a great charm for her. Slowly she made her way round the church, looking at every tablet and monument, and trying in vain to decipher the writing upon them. But one amongst them brought her to a standstill: it was the figure of a little girl sculptured in white marble, lying in a recumbent position; her hands were crossed on her breast, with a lily placed between them, her eyes were closed, and her hair curled over her brow and round her shoulders in the most natural way. Just above her was a stained glass window--a beautiful representation of the Saviour taking the children in His arms and blessing them. Below the window was written in plain black letters,--
IN LOVING MEMORY OF VIOLET RUSSELL.
Aged six years.
'Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not.'
Betty drew a deep breath; her thoughts