Verity, who had Babs in her arms, flew to meet him; but Amias merely waved his pipe and grunted in an amicable fashion.
"Oh, how tired and dusty you look!" exclaimed Verity, in the pretty, maternal way that always sat so quaintly on her.

"Look at him, Amias; I do believe he has walked all those miles from Earlsfield." "Yea-Verily, you are right, child," returned the giant placidly; and then Verity put down Babs on the grass to sprawl among the daisies.
"Sit down," she said, pushing Malcolm with her tiny hands into a big hammock chair; "I am going to make you some fresh tea--iced lemonade is out of the question;" and then she flitted into the house on her usual errand of "hunting the Snark." Malcolm was certainly tired; he had been unable to get a fly at Earlsfield, and the long climb in the heat had rather taken it out of him, so he was well content to lie back in his lounge and let Verity wait on him.
"We have had visitors," she observed presently; then Malcolm looked up quickly.
"The ladies from the Wood House," she continued.

"They were here for quite an hour.

You are right, Mr.Herrick, the eldest Miss Templeton is a perfect darling.

Amias was just saying as you turned the corner that he would like to paint her as a Puritan lady; the dress would exactly suit her." "She has a very sweet face," endorsed Amias, "and her manners are remarkably pleasing.