One lovely April morning Peggy started off alone, on the ostensible errand of going to pay half a crown which was owing to old Williams, the mole-catcher, but the more real one of gathering primroses and hunting about for birds' nests. It was seldom that she was separated from Bobby, who was as constant as her shadow, but to-day he had preferred to stay and work in his garden, having many designs for its improvement, while the holidays were waning only too fast. Peggy had whistled for Rollo, but he was not to be found, and it was only when she was more than half-way down the pasture that he came racing after her as hard as he could tear, nearly knocking her down in the exuberance of his joy.