Had they come in when you started to fetch me?' she inquired at last of
the maid.

'Not yet, Miss Frances. Miss Mildmay gave me orders to go for you at
half-past six, before she went out. But I don't think they'll be long.
Late tea is ordered for half-past seven, and Miss Mildmay is never
behind time on Saturday evenings.'

'I don't mind whether they're in or not--not much,' said Frances. 'I
don't want any more tea. I suppose Eugene has had his?'

'Yes, Miss Frances, his tea and an egg. He was very pleased. Master
Eugene does enjoy a nice boiled fresh egg. I think you'll have to go
down to late tea, though, Miss Frances; perhaps Miss Mildmay wouldn't be
pleased if you didn't; and perhaps'----

'Nonsense, Phebe,' said her young mistress; 'Aunt Alison doesn't care.
You speak as if she was like a mamma, wanting to have us beside her
always. She's had Miss Jacinth all the afternoon, and she likes her
better than me. I'm sure she wouldn't care if she never saw me again.
Well, no; perhaps I shouldn't say that, for she's quite kind. She was
very kind about letting me go this afternoon, and sending you to take me
and to fetch me, Phebe.'

'Yes, Miss Frances,' began Phebe, again with some hesitation, 'it was
just that I was thinking about. If you go down to tea just as usual,
nice and neat, it'll make it more likely that she will let you go again.
It will show that a little change now and then will do you no harm, nor
get you out of regular ways, so to say, Miss Frances.'

'Very well,' the child agreed; 'I don't care much one way or another. Oh
Phebe,' she went on, brightening up again--it would have been difficult
to depress Francie for long--'we had such fun this afternoon;' and she
went into some particulars of the games, which Phebe listened to with
great interest. 'I wish Aunt Alison would _sometimes_ let us have
friends to play with us. We could have beautiful "I spy" in the garden.'

'Yes, Miss Frances, so you could,' agreed Phebe.

'You see at Stannesley there were really no children, no girls any way
near our age except the Vicar's daughter, and though she came to have
tea with us sometimes it wasn't much pleasure--not _fun_, at least.
She's a little older than Miss Jacinth, and oh, Phebe, she's so
_awfully_ deaf. It's almost like not hearing at all.'

'Poor young lady!' said Phebe, sympathisingly.

'Yes, isn't it sad? And so, you see, the one thing we were glad of about
coming here--I was, any way--was about