Oh!" They all looked puzzled. Most people lived at home always; they
did not come on a twelve-months' visit, or speak in quite that tone about
their home-coming. But Audrey offered no explanations, and they were too
polite to ask for any.

"Oh," said Daphne again. "Well, I don't suppose we shall be at Abbot's
Field as long as that. We are going to stay with grandpapa, Mr. Vivian.
He lives at 'The Orchard.' Do you know him?"

Audrey shook her head. "I--I don't remember the people round about Moor
End--at least, not very well. I have been living with my granny for four
years!"

All the laughter and joy had died out of her heart, and from her face.
She was visibly embarrassed. She thought of her home, the shabbiness and
untidiness of it as it used to be, and she did not expect it to be much
better now, even though Faith was four years older, and she felt a shamed
shrinking from letting these strangers see it. She had spoken the truth
when she said she did not know Mr. Vivian, but she did remember that
'The Orchard' was a large place, and the house one of the finest in the
neighbourhood.

She hoped, she hoped, oh, so fervently, that they would never come over to
Moor End to look her up; that they would not ask her her name, or where
she lived. If they knew her father was the vicar, they would be coming
over to hear him preach, and then she would not be able to avoid
introducing them, and then they would see and know all!

A shade of embarrassment hung over the rest of the journey. Audrey was
uncomfortable. She was ashamed and nervous, and troubled at her own lack
of frankness. She was also, fortunately, ashamed of being ashamed,
but she had yet to learn how to rise above herself; to know what are the
things she should feel shame for.

It was almost a relief to her when at last the train drew up at Kingfield,
and they all had to change carriages; for no one could help feeling that
little shade of embarrassment. And she was even more glad when the
porter, who looked after her luggage for her, put her into a carriage
apart from the Vivians, for now she felt she could escape the necessity of
introducing to them whoever might be at the station to meet her at Moor
End. Indeed, it was just possible that they might not see if anyone met
her.

Yet, when the feeling of relief entered her heart, all other joy went out
of it, for she did love her father, she did love them all, and it hurt her
to feel ashamed. S