“Do put away those stupid old stockings and come out with us!” she begged, still hanging over Avery.  “Don’t you hate darning?  I do.  We had to do our own before you came.  I was very naughty one day last summer.  I went out and played in the garden instead of mending my stockings, and Father found out.”  Gracie cast up her eyes dramatically.  “He sent me in to do them, and went off to one of his old parish parties; and I just sneaked out as soon as his back was turned and went on with the game.  But there was no luck that day.  He came back to fetch something and caught me.  And then—­just imagine!” Again Gracie was dramatic, though this time unconsciously.  “He sent me to bed and—­what do you think?  When he came home to tea, he—­whipped me!”

Avery threaded her needle with care.  She said nothing.

“I think it was rather a shame,” went on Gracie unconcernedly.  “Because he never whips Jeanie or Olive.  But then, he can make them cry without, and he can’t make me.  I ’spect that’s what made him do it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, dear,” said Avery rather shortly.

Gracie peered round into her face.  “Mrs. Denys, you don’t like Father, do you?” she said.

“My dear, that’s not a nice question to ask,” said Avery, with her eyes on her work.

“I don’t know why not,” said Gracie.  “I don’t like him myself, and he knows I don’t.  He’d whip me again if he got the chance, but I’m too jolly careful now.  I was pleased that you got Ronnie and Julian off the other day.  He never suspected, did he?  I thought I should have burst during prayers.  It was so funny.”

“My dear!” protested Avery.

“Yes, I know,” said Gracie.  “But you aren’t really shocked, dear, kind Mrs. Denys!  You know you aren’t.  I can see your sweet little dimple.  No, I can’t!  Yes, I can!  I do love your dimple.  It goes in and out like the sun.”

Avery leaned back abruptly in her chair.  “Oh, foolish one!” she said, and gathered the child to her with a warmth to which the ardent Gracie was swift to respond.

“And you are coming out with us, aren’t you?  Because it’s so lovely and cold.  I want to go up on that big hill in Rodding Park, and run and run and run till I just can’t run any longer.  Ronnie and Julian are coming too.  And Jeanie and Olive and Pat.  We ought to begin and collect holly for the church decorations.  You’ll be able to help this year, won’t you?  Miss Whalley always bosses things.  Have you met Miss Whalley yet?  She’s quite the funniest person in Rodding.  She was the daughter of the last Vicar, and she has never forgotten it.  So odd of her!  As if there were anything in it!  I often wish I weren’t a parson’s daughter.  I’d much rather belong to someone who had to go up to town every day.  There would be much more fun for everybody then.”

Avery was laying her mending together.  She supposed she ought to check the child’s chatter, but felt too much in sympathy with her to do so.  “I really don’t know if I ought to come,” she said.  “But it is certainly too fine an afternoon for you to waste indoors.  Where are the boys?”