ly checked, and kept closely cropped like a
boy's; it was only Cicely's that was allowed at present to do as it
liked and wave about in soft little rings of gold.

Pennie made her plans and thought her thoughts, and often went to bed
with Ethelwyn's imaginary figure so strongly before her that she had
wonderful dreams. Ethelwyn took the shape of the "Fair One with the
Golden Locks," in the fairy book, and stood before her with yellow hair
quite down to her feet--beautiful, gracious, smiling. Even in the
daylight Pennie could not quite get rid of the idea, and so, long before
she had seen her, the name of Ethelwyn came to mean, in her romantic
little mind, everything that was lovely and desirable.

And at last Ethelwyn came. It was an exciting moment, for the children
were so unused to strangers that they were prepared to look upon their
visitor with deep curiosity. They were nevertheless shy, and it had
occurred to David and Nancy that the cupboard under the stairs would be
a favourable position from which to take cautious observations when she
arrived.

Ambrose, therefore, and Pennie were the only two ready to receive their
guest, for Dickie was busy with her own affairs in the nursery; they
waited in the schoolroom with nervous impatience, and presently the
drawing-room bell rang twice, which was always a signal that the
children were wanted.

"That's for us," said Pennie. "Come, Ambrose."

But Ambrose held back. "_You_ go," he said. "Mother doesn't want me."

And Pennie, after trying a few persuasions, was obliged to go alone.
But when she got to the door and heard voices inside the room she found
it difficult to go in, and stood on the mat for some minutes before she
could make up her mind to turn the handle. She looked down at her
pinafore and saw that it was a good deal crumpled, and an unlucky
ink-spot stared at her like a little black eye in the very middle of it;
surely, too, Nurse had drawn back her hair more tightly than usual from
her face. Altogether she felt unequal to meeting the unknown but
elegant Ethelwyn.

It must be done, however, and at last she turned the handle quickly and
went into the room. Mrs Hawthorn was sitting by the fire, and in front
of her stood a little girl. Her hair _was_ fluffy and yellow, just as
Pennie had thought, and hung down her back in nice waves escaping from
the prettiest possible quilted bonnet (how different from that black
plush one upstairs!) This was