But look a little farther off. Don't you
see over the top of another rock a lady's bonnet. I do believe that's
Wynnie. I know she took her box of water-colours out with her this morning,
just before you came home. Dora went with her."
"Can't you tell by her ribbons, Connie? You seem sharp-sighted enough to
see her face if she would show it. I don't even see the bonnet. If I were
like some people I know, I should feel justified in denying its presence,
attributing the whole to your fancy, and refusing anything to superiority
of vision."
"That wouldn't be like you, papa."
"I hope not; for I have no fancy for being shut up in my own blindness,
when other people offer me their eyes to eke out the defects of my own
with. But here comes mamma at last."
Connie's face brightened as if she had not seen her mother for a fortnight.
My Ethelwyn always brought the home gladness that her name signified with
her. She was a centre of radiating peace.
"Mamma, don't you think that's Wynnie's bonnet over that black rock there,
just beyond where you see that man drawing?"
"You absurd child! How should I know Wynnie's bonnet at this distance?"
"Can't you see the little white feather you gave her out of your wardrobe
just before we left? She put it in this morning before she went out.
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