Tuvvy's advice, but that was quite another matter to letting him do the
work.

"I shall have to go and see Tuvvy," he said, carelessly throwing down
the piece of wood he held; "perhaps Aunt Katharine will let you go too.
You could stop at old Sally's, if you didn't want to go into the barn."

As it happened, Aunt Katharine wanted to send a pudding to old Sally,
who had been ill, and she gladly gave Maisie leave to go with Dennis, so
Peter in attendance, and the pudding in a basket, the children set out
the next morning directly after their lessons.

Maisie was pleased to make this visit, and it was such a very bright
fresh June morning, that everything out of doors seemed to be as happy
as herself as she danced along, with Peter jumping and barking at her
side. The sky was as bright blue as the speedwell in the hedges; the
leaves on the trees, not old enough yet to be dark and heavy, fluttered
gaily in the wind, and made a light green shimmer everywhere. The
fields were still dressed in yellow and white, for none of the farmers
had cut their grass, and in the woods the deep purple hyacinths still
lingered, though these were nearly over. It looked a very happy,
bright, flowery world, with everything in it fresh and new, and nothing
old or sad to think about.

Maisie had not much to trouble her either that morning, but there was
one little sad thought which would come creeping out of a corner in her
mind sometimes, and that was the fate of the grey kitten. She wondered
now, as she checked her pace to a walk, and rebuked Peter for snuffing
at the pudding, whether old Sally might have heard something about it
from Eliza. There was always a faint hope of this, but it grew fainter
with each visit, and Dennis thought it quite silly to put the question
at all. Nevertheless Maisie made up her mind, with a quiet little nod
to herself, that she would not forget to ask to-day.

Sally and Anne were talking so very loud inside the cottage, that it was
a long while before the children could make themselves heard, and it was
not until Dennis had battered on the door with his stick that it was
slowly opened.

"Lawk, mother!" cried Anne, "it's the young lady and gentleman from
Fieldside.--Come in, dearies, and sit ye down."

Old Sally was sitting in the chimney corner wrapped in a shawl, her
brown old face looking a shade paler than usual. Anne set chairs for
the visitors next to her, and drew closely up herself on the ot