on her lap and her left foot
crossed over her right Her face wore a look of slightly puzzled, but on
the whole intelligent interest; such as a humble dependent might feel
while submitting to instruction kindly imparted by some very eminent
person. She wore a white frock, trimmed with embroidery, of a perfectly
simple kind. She had a light blue sash round her waist. Her hair, which
was very sleek, was tied with a light blue ribbon. Round her neck, on
a third light blue ribbon, much narrower than either of the other two,
hung a tiny gold locket shaped like a heart. She turned as Frank
entered the room and met his gaze of astonishment with a look of extreme
innocence. Her eyes made him think for a moment of those of a lamb, a
puppy or other young animal which is half-frightened, half-curious
at the happening of something altogether outside of its previous
experience.

Neither of the ladies at the window took any notice of Frank's entrance.
He hobbled across the room and sat down beside Priscilla. She got up at
once and, without looking at him, walked demurely to the chair on which
Miss Lentaigne was sitting.

"Please, Aunt Juliet," she said, "may I go to bed? I think it's time."

Miss Lentaigne looked at her a little doubtfully. She had known
Priscilla for many years and had learned to be particularly suspicious
of meekness.

"I heard the stable clock strike," said Priscilla. "It's half-past
nine."

"Very well," said Miss Lentaigne. "Good-night."

Priscilla kissed her aunt lightly on her left cheek bone. Then she held
out her hand to Lady Torrington.

"You may kiss me," said the lady. "You seem to be a very quiet well
behaved little girl."

Priscilla kissed Lady Torrington and then passed on to Frank.

"Good-night, Cousin Frank," she said. "I hope you're not tired after
being out in the boat, and I hope your ankle will be better tomorrow."

Her eyes still had an expression of cherubic innocence; but just as she
let go Frank's hand she winked abruptly. He found as she turned away,
that she had left something in his hand. He unfolded a small, much
crumpled piece of blotting paper, taken, he supposed, by stealth from
the writing table beside Priscilla's chair. A note was scratched with a
point of a pin on the blotting paper.

"Come to the shrubbery, ten sharp. Most important. Excuse scratching. No
pencil."

"Priscilla," said Lady Torrington, "is a sweet child, very subdued and
modest."

Frank's attention wa