at it never quite knew
when it was doing right or wrong. There was no doubt, however, that
since its arrival there was less peace and quietness than ever at
Haughton Park.

Meanwhile at Fieldside the idea of Philippa's visit was received with
something like dismay. She had never stayed more than one day before,
and there was a good deal of doubt in the children's minds as to whether
she would make herself agreeable. Dennis in particular felt this
strongly.

"Will Philippa stay two days or three days, Aunt Katharine?" he asked
when he heard the news. "When Aunt Trevor says two or three days, does
she count the one she comes and the one she goes, because that only
leaves one clear day?"

"Oh, I daresay if you're happy together," answered Miss Chester, "her
mother will like her to stay longer than that."

It was breakfast time, and she was reading a pile of letters which had
just arrived, so that she did not pay much attention to the children.
Dennis turned to Maisie and said softly: "I think one clear day's quite
long enough; don't you?"

Maisie took some thoughtful spoonfuls of porridge before she answered.

"I'm not quite sure. Sometimes the longer she stays the nicer she
gets."

"But, anyhow," objected Dennis, "I don't like her while she's _getting_
nice, so I think it's best for her to go away soon."

Maisie was not quite so sure of this as her brother, though she too felt
grave doubts about Philippa's behaviour. If she were in a nice mood,
her visit might be pleasant, for there were plenty of things to show her
at Fieldside, and plenty to do, if she would only be interested in them,
and not have her "grown-up" manner.

"I wonder what she'll say to Darkie," she said, as she sat thinking of
this after breakfast.

"She'll say Blanche is much prettier," answered Dennis; "she always says
her things are nicer than ours."

"She hasn't seen him beg yet," said Maisie.

It was not long before Philippa had this opportunity, for when she was
sitting at tea with her cousins that evening, she happened to look down
at her side, and there was Darkie begging. He was the oddest little
black figure possible, bolt upright, his bushy tail spread out at the
back like a fan, and his paws neatly drooped in front.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, laughing; "how lovely! What a clever cat!"

"He always does it," said Dennis, with quiet pride. "We taught him."

"I told you he begged," added Maisie. "Why don't you teach Blanche