I want you to be friendly with them." The old man shook his head.
"I do not care to leave you, my dearest." "Foolish old fatherkins! Who would carry me off?
--'Nobody, no, not I, nobody cares for me.'" Suddenly a new look shot up in her face.
"Did you see that singular handsome man who came from the church--like some one out of an old painting?
Not that his dress was so strange; but there was something in his face--something that you would expect to find in--in a Garibaldi.

Silly, am I not?
Did you see him ?" He looked at her gravely.
"My dear," he said at last, "I think I will go after all, though I shall be a little late." "A sensible grandfather.

Come quickly, dear." He paused again.
"But I fear I sent a note to say I could not dine." "No, you did not.

It has been lying on your table for two days." "Dear me--dear me! I am getting very old." They passed out of the church.

Presently, as they hurried to the rectory near by, the girl said: "But you haven't answered.