d Philip.

Just then hasty footsteps sounded along the passage, and Norah burst
into the room like a whirlwind.

"Oh, Ruth," she said, quite out of breath with running so fast, "the
foreign gentleman has come; and what do you think? He has got
children; at least, he has a little girl, and she's about my age, Mrs.
Mills says; because Mrs. Brown's son has been doing some painting at
the Grange, and he saw a little girl one day, and Mrs. Brown told Mrs.
Mills that he said she looked a 'regular caution.' I wonder what that
means--not like little English girls, I expect. Oh, Ruth! don't you
_wish_ we could see her?"

"Norah, you really do talk too much," said Ruth, as her little sister
paused for breath. "You bring out all your words in a rush together,
and no one can hear half you say; and I'm sure mother wouldn't like you
to chatter like that with Mrs. Mills. What have you been to the shop
at all for, this morning?"

"To buy some string for Tom," said Norah. She was generally rather
hurt when Ruth put on her elder-sisterly air, because she tried so hard
to be "old" and sensible during the holidays, so that Ruth might talk
to her sometimes and tell her secrets as she did to Mary, instead of
always treating her as one of the little ones. But to-day she was too
excited to pay much attention to Ruth's reproof, and turned to Philip
for sympathy.

"Philip, isn't it lovely?" she said. "Perhaps we shall be great
friends, the little girl and I, and go to tea with each other, and do
things like that. Oh, I should _love_ to have a little girl to be
friends with!"

CHAPTER II.

A QUEER VISITOR.

For some days nothing more was heard of the new tenants at Haver
Grange, and when Sunday came the children were quite excited at the
idea of seeing the foreign gentleman and his little girl in church.

When Stephen said that perhaps they would not come to church this first
Sunday, the others scouted the idea with scorn, and the eyes of all the
Carews were turned towards the Grange pew as they went in.

It was a big, old-fashioned, high-walled pew, and no one had ever sat
in it as long as the children could remember; though Mrs. Jinks; the
verger's wife, dusted it well and beat up the cushions with great
energy every Thursday when she cleaned the church.

The pew was empty this morning; but it was early yet, and the children
sat in eager expectation until the last clang of the bell sounded and
the vicar entered.