her, but did not show it, except in withholding her
confidence, and Mrs. Beach had no idea that they were not intimate.
Cicely was indifferent towards her, but had loved her as a child, for
the same reason that the twins thought her the most charming of
womankind, because she treated them as if they were her equals in
intelligence, as no doubt they were. It had never occurred to them to
mimic her, which was a feather in her cap if she had known it. And
another was that Miss Bird adored her, being made welcome in her house,
and, as she said, treated like anybody else.

By the time luncheon was over the Squire had so overcome his bitter
resentment at the idea of Walter's going to live at Melbury Park, that
he could afford to joke about it. Aunt Grace had suggested that they
should all go and live there, and had so amused the Squire with a
picture of himself coming home to his villa in the evening and eating
his dinner in the kitchen in his shirt sleeves, with carpet slippers on
his feet, which was possibly the picture in her mind of "how the poor
live," that he was in the best of humours, and drank two more glasses of
port than his slightly gouty tendency usually permitted.

The twins persuaded Miss Bird to take them to the station to meet Walter
in the afternoon. They were not allowed to go outside the park by
themselves, and walked down the village on either side of the old
starling, each of them over-topping her by half a head, like good girls,
as she said herself. They wore cool white dresses, and shady hats
trimmed with poppies, and looked a picture. When they reached the
by-road to the station, Joan said, "One, two, three, and away," and they
shot like darts from the side of their instructress, arriving on the
platform flushed and laughing, not at all like good girls, while Miss
Bird panted in their rear, clucking threats and remonstrances, to the
respectful but undisguised amusement of the porter, and the groom who
had preceded them with the dog-cart.

Walter got out of a third-class carriage when the train drew up and
said, "Hullo, twanky-diddleses! Oh, my adorable _Sturna vulgaris vetus_,
embrace me! Come to my arms!"

"Now, Walter, do behave," said Miss Bird sharply. "What will people
think and Joan 'n Nancy I shall certainly tell Mrs. Clinton of your
_disgraceful_ behaviour I am quite ashamed of you running off like that
which you _know_ you are not allowed to do you are very _naughty_ girls
and I am serio