, Aunt
Katharine made a suggestion which put the black kitten out of their
heads for the present.

"Children," she said, "I am going to drive over to Haughton Park to
lunch this morning. If you like, you may both go with me and see
Philippa."

There was a moment's pause, and then Dennis asked seriously:

"Shall you go anywhere besides, Aunt Katharine, or just straight there?"

"I shall only stop at Mrs Broadbent's on my way," she replied, "to ask
about so some fowls."

The children looked at each other, but made no answer.

"Well," said their aunt, smiling, "I dare say you'd like to talk it over
together. I shall start at twelve o'clock, and if you decide to go, you
must be ready to the minute, for I shall not wait for you. Do just as
you like about it."

To go or not to go to Haughton was always a matter which required
thought. There were things against it, and things for it. In Maisie's
opinion, there was a great deal to be liked in the visit. There was a
large, beautiful house, much larger than Fieldside, and a park with deer
in it: there were all sorts of dolls and toys and pretty things which
she enjoyed playing with, and--there was Philippa. Philippa was perhaps
a doubtful pleasure, for if she was in a cross mood she was not
agreeable, but there was always the chance that she would be pleasant,
and then she and Maisie got on very well together with their dolls.
Dennis was disposed to be rather scornful about going to Haughton, but
in his case there was the attraction of the drive, when Aunt Katharine
sometimes let him hold the reins, and there was the chance of her
stopping at somewhere interesting on the way. Mrs Broadbent's would be
better than nothing to-day, though it was not his favourite farmhouse.

"I don't think I want to go _much_," he said, as soon as he and Maisie
had reached the play-room. "Aunt Trevor's sure to have a headache, and
then we shall have to be as quiet as mice."

"P'raps she'll let us go out with Philippa," said Maisie.

"Not without Miss Mervyn comes too," said Dennis. "I don't care about
that--it's no fun. She's always saying, `You mustn't do this, or you
mustn't do that.'"

"Well," said Maisie, "should I go with Aunt Katharine then, and you stay
at home?"

But this did not suit Dennis at all. It would never do for Maisie to
come back and describe all manner of enjoyments which he had not shared.
It would be better to go and grumble than to be left at home alo