u
can see Penny or maybe Miss Betty herself, and hear whether it's really
true. And haven't I got some eggs, my own hen's eggs, here for them,
and only just waiting till they open the shutters to take them in?'

'Well, why don't you go round to the back door, as is the proper place
for you,' said the stern elder brother, 'instead of staring at
gentlefolks' houses like a great gawky?'

'Well, come to that, I know which is the biggest gawky of us two,' said
pert little Nance; 'and, if you must know, I was just waiting for the
chance of Miss Betty coming down, seeing Penny might be in one of her
tantrums and not tell me a word.' Then, as the front door of the house
suddenly opened, she exclaimed, joyously,

'Look, if she isn't there,' and was darting in at the gate, when her
brother caught her and held her back. 'Come away, will you, ye
interfering little hussy!' he was beginning hastily, when the girl who
had opened the door caught sight of the two and came down the garden
path towards them. Spoilt Nancy shook herself free, and with a
triumphant glance at her big brother she ran to meet the young lady,
and Peter could do nothing but follow her; and, indeed, if the truth
must be told, he was not at all sorry to do it, and, perhaps, just a
little grateful to naughty Nancy for showing the way.

The early riser from the cottage was a girl of thirteen, a very pretty
little girl, with a fair, fresh face, sunshiny hazel eyes, and hair of
that golden brown colour which the bracken wears in autumn. She seemed
to have dressed in rather a hurry, for her long black frock was not
quite perfectly fastened, the muslin scarf round her shoulders was just
a little crooked, and the black ribbon which tied the bright hair had
not managed to catch it all, so that a few curly locks came tumbling
out at the side. She had shut the house door very quietly, and she
held up her finger for a sign of silence as she came down the path; and
Nancy, who had started off running to meet her, stopped as if a sudden
feeling of shyness had come over her, a feeling, it must be owned,
which didn't often trouble Nancy, certainly not towards Miss Betty
Wyndham, whom she had known ever since she could remember. But then
she had never seen Miss Betty look quite like this before, in her black
frock and with such a grave look in her merry eyes, a look that was
rather sad, and yet, perhaps, more serious than sad, and that somehow
made Nancy stop and curtsey