e crying little girl.
Has she been there a long time? Did your old lady tell you that?'

Peterkin shook his head.

'Oh no, she's only been there since Mrs. Wylie came back from the
country. She told me so.'

'And when was that?' I asked, but Pete did not know. He was sometimes
very stupid, in spite of his quickness and fancies. 'It's been long
enough for the parrot to learn to copy her grumbling,' I added.

'That wouldn't take him long,' said Peterkin, in his whispering voice
again, '_if_ he's some sort of a fairy, you know, Gilley.'

This time, perhaps, it was a good thing he spoke in a low voice, for at
that moment nurse came in to wake us, or rather to make us get up, as we
were nearly always awake already, and if she had heard the word
'fairy,' she would have begun about Peterkin's 'fancies' again.

Some days passed without our hearing anything of the parrot or the old
lady or Rock Terrace. We did not exactly forget about it; indeed, it was
what we talked about every morning when we awoke. But I did not think
much about it during the day, although I daresay Pete did.

So it was quite a surprise to me one afternoon, about a week after the
evening of all the fuss, when, the very moment I had rung the front
bell, the door was opened by Pete himself, looking very important.

'She's come,' he said. 'I've been watching for you. She's in the
drawing-room with mamma, and mamma told me to fetch you as soon as you
came back from school. Is Clem there?'

'No,' I said, 'it's one of the days he stays later than me, you know.'

Peterkin did not seem very sorry.

'Then she's come just to invite you and me,' he said. 'Clement _is_ too
big, but she might have asked him too, out of polititude, you know.'

He was always fussing about being polite, but I don't think I answered
her in that way.

'Bother,' I said, for I was cross; my books were heavier than usual,
and I banged them down; 'bother your politeness. Can't you tell me what
you're talking about? Who is "she" that's in the drawing-room? I don't
want to go up to see her, whoever she is.'

'Giles!' said Peterkin, in a very disappointed tone. 'You can't have
forgotten. It's the old lady next door to the parrot's house, of course.
I told you she meant to come. And she's going to invite us, I'm sure.'

In my heart I was very anxious to go to Rock Terrace again, to see the
parrot, and perhaps hear more of the mysterious little girl, but I was
feeling rather tired and