round
her, looking shyly at each other, without finding anything to say. This
did not suit Philippa.

"Come and show me where the strawberry beds are," she said to Dennis,
and when they had run away together, Maisie drew up a chair and sat down
by Becky's side.

"How do you like being here?" she asked.

Becky had a faint tinge of colour in her face now, like a China rose
washed in the rain; her dark eyes looked brighter, and when she smiled,
something that would soon be a dimple showed in her cheek.

"Very well, thank you," she answered. "I can walk a bit now. This
morning I walked as far as yonder rose-bush, and to-morrow I'm goin' to
try and get up to the big tree."

"Very well" might have sounded faint praise for the Manor Farm to
unaccustomed ears; but Maisie knew that the country-people used the term
to express the very highest satisfaction, so she was quite content.

From their snug corner under the shady veranda, the children watched the
arrival of the guests, as they came out of the house in twos and threes,
and moved into the bright sunshine on the lawn.

"It's like looking at a peep-show or a magic-lantern," said Maisie;
"we're in the shadow and they're in the light. Now I'll tell you who
they are. Here's Mrs Broadbent and Emmeline and Lilian."

Mrs Broadbent and her two daughters stopped on their way to make many
excuses for the absence of Mr Broadbent.

"He's such a one, Mr Solace, for sticking to his work; isn't he, girls?
I said this morning, `Now do take a little rest, papa, this afternoon,
and leave things to your bailiff for once.' But no. `The master's
eye,' he says, `does more work than both his hands.'"

"Well, he's in the right there," said Mr Solace good-humouredly.

"That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?" she went on, her sharp eye
catching sight of the children, "and her cousin, Miss Trevor? How
delicate she looks, poor child!" She nodded and smiled graciously.

"No, that's not Miss Trevor," replied Mr Solace; "that's my
wheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here for
change of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit."

"So _odd_!" remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved on
into the garden. "I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line
_somewhere_."

"There's Mr Hurst," continued Maisie; "he's our vicar, you know; and the
little lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives with
him. And he's talking to your