sing one's intellect
could go on to grow there), I should feel sure of this."

"But not here, where it is quite clear that the village sot (if there be
one), and Mr Hope, and the children, and we ourselves all see the same
objects in sunlight and moonlight, and acknowledge them to be the same,
though we cannot measure feelings upon them. I wish Mr Hope may say
something more which may lead to the old man on the heath again. He is
coming to-morrow morning."

"Yes; we shall see him again to-morrow."

CHAPTER THREE.

MAKING ACQUAINTANCE.

The sisters were not so fatigued with their journey but that they were
early in the open air the next morning. In the shrubbery they met the
twins, walking hand in hand, each with a doll on the disengaged arm.

"You are giving your dolls an airing before breakfast," said Hester,
stopping them as they would have passed on.

"Yes; we carry out our dolls now because we must not run before
breakfast. We have made arbours in our own gardens for our dolls, where
they may sit when we are swinging."

"I should like to see your arbours and your gardens," said Margaret,
looking round her. "Will you take me to them?"

"Not now," answered they; "we should have to cross the grass, and we
must not go upon the grass before breakfast."

"Where is your swing? I am very fond of swinging."

"Oh! it is in the orchard there, under that large tree. But you
cannot--"

"I see; we cannot get to it now, because we should have to cross the
grass." And Margaret began to look round for any place where they might
go beyond the gravel-walk, on which they stood. She moved towards the
greenhouse, but found it was never unlocked before breakfast. The
summerhouse remained, and a most unexceptionable path led to it. The
sisters turned that way.

"You cannot go there," cried the children; "Miss Young always has the
schoolroom before breakfast."

"We are going to see Miss Young," explained Hester, smiling at the
amazed faces with which the children stared from the end of the path.
They were suddenly seen to turn, and walk as fast as they could, without
its being called running, towards the house. They were gone to their
mother's dressing-room door, to tell her that the Miss Ibbotsons were
gone to see Miss Young before breakfast.

The path led for some little way under the hedge which separated Mr
Grey's from Mr Rowland's garden. There were voices on the other side,
and what was said was pe