It was really quite a treat at Christmas-time when there were the Hunt balls, and the gentlemen wore nice red coats, but Arthur didn't care for dancing, so she supposed that they wouldn't go even to the ball in their little country town.

She didn't think that people who were fond of one sport often care for another, although her father was an exception.

But then he was an exception in every way--such a gardener, and he knew all about birds and animals, and of course he was simply adored by all the old women in the village, and at the same time what he really liked best was a book.

You always knew where to find him if he were wanted; he would be in his study with a book.

Very likely it would be an old, old book, some fusty old thing that no one else would dream of reading.