all and ask after your foot, and then we will
explain. There is a little difficulty: you might not care to be
friends with us if you knew," went on Phillis with burning cheeks;
"but we will call and explain. Oh, yes, Nan and I will call!"

"Do; I shall expect you," returned Mrs. Cheyne, half amused and half
mystified at the girl's obvious confusion. What did the child mean?
They were gentle-people,--one could see that at a glance. They were in
reduced circumstances: they had come down to Hadleigh to retrench.
Well, what did that matter? People's wealth or poverty never affected
her; she would think none the less well of them for that; she would
call at the Friary and entertain them at the White House with as much
pleasure as though they lived in a palace. The little mystery piqued
her, and yet excited her interest. It was long since she had
interested herself so much in anything. To Miss Middleton she had
always been cold and uncertain. Mr. Drummond she treated with a
mixture of satire and haughtiness that aroused his ire. Phillis's
frankness and simplicity had won her for a moment to her earlier and
better self: she conceived an instantaneous liking for the girl who
looked at her with such grave kindly glances. "I shall expect you,
remember," she repeated, as Nan at that moment appeared in sight.

"Oh, yes, Nan and I will come," returned Phillis, slowly, and almost
solemnly; but an instant afterwards a flicker of amusement played
round her mouth. It was painful, of course; but, still, how droll it
was!

"How long you have been, Nan!" she exclaimed, a little unreasonably,
as Nan ran towards them, flushed and breathless from her haste.

"It has not been long to me," observed Mrs. Cheyne, pointedly. She
talked more to Nan than to Phillis after this, until the servants
appeared with the wheeled chair; but nevertheless her last words were
for Phillis. "Remember your promise," was all she said, as she held
out her hand to the girl; and Phillis tried to smile in answer, though
it was rather a failure after all.

CHAPTER XVIII.

DOROTHY BRINGS IN THE BEST CHINA.

"What a fool I made of myself yesterday! but to-day Richard is himself
again," said Phillis, as she gathered up another muslin curtain in her
arms ready to hand to Nan, who was mounted on some steps. It was only
Monday afternoon, but the girls had done wonders: the work-room, as
they called it, was nearly finished. The great carved wardrobe and
mahoga