very
anxious little servant maid.
"Please," she said, "Miss Redstone, my mistress says, will you all step
into her house and partake of refreshment, and do her a very great
favour?"
Janet could hardly believe her ears.
"All of us!" she exclaimed.
"Yes," said the little servant, "all, please."
Janet thought very hard for a moment or two. Who was this Miss
Redstone? What would Mrs. Avory do under the same circumstances? she
was asking herself. "Which house?" she inquired at last.
"That one," said the little anxious servant, pointing to the neatest
and brightest little house you ever saw, with dazzling steps and a
shining knocker, and a poor little pathetic face peering hopefully over
the blind.
The pathetic little face settled it. "All right," Janet said at once,
and, calling the others together and telling Kink to wait for them
outside the town, she led them in.
They were shown into a tiny and spotless parlour, with woolwork
footstools, where after a moment or so they were joined by Miss
Redstone, the little old lady whom Janet had seen at the window, but
whose face was now smiling and contented.
"You must think me very strange, my dears," she said, "but I will
explain. I am Godfrey Fairfax."
A dreadful silence fell on the room. The children looked at each other
shamefacedly, and almost in fear, for they thought the little old lady
must be mad.
As for her, she again looked the picture of woe. "O dear," she said,
"is it possible that none of you have ever even heard of me! Surely one
of my stories must have found its way to your house?"
"Do you write stories?" Janet asked.
"Yes, I have written lots, but I'm afraid they don't sell as they ought
to. Of course, Godfrey Fairfax is not my real name; it is just the name
I take as a writer, because people prefer that books should be written
by a man rather than by a woman. I am really Miss Redstone. Why I
called you in was to ask if you would be so very kind as to sit down
and have some cake and milk while I read you my last story--quite a
short one--and you can tell me what you think of it. There are so few
children that I know here, and it makes such a difference to get some
real criticism. Do you mind?"
They all said they didn't mind at all, and after the cake and milk had
been brought in by the little servant, Godfrey Fairfax cleared her
throat and began.
"It is a story," she said, "of Roundheads and Cavaliers--a very
suitable story to w
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