As she walked home from the village that afternoon she had felt the buds and the fields stirring.
When they got home, Mrs.Boyce turned to her daughter at the head of the stairs, "Shall I unlace your dress, Marcella ?" "Oh no, thank you.

Can I help you ?" "No.

Good-night." "Mamma!" Marcella turned and ran after her.

"I should like to know how papa is.

I will wait here if you will tell me." Mrs.Boyce looked surprised.