een out a short walk with Sarah. Only a very short one however, for
Sarah had to hurry back, because of course Mrs. Partridge said she
needed her, and our tutor was coming at eleven. Still we were very glad
to go out at all.

"Sarah would have known; would you have minded?" said Tom.

Somehow it made me feel sorry and puzzled to hear him talk like that. We
had always been used to being quite open about everything--we had never
thought about any one knowing or not knowing about anything we did,
except of course surprises about birthday presents and those kind of
things. And now in one short week Tom seemed to have got into little
underhand ways--of not wanting people to know, and that kind of thing. I
had too, but somehow it made me more sorry for Tom than for myself--it
was so unlike his bright open way.

"No," I said, "I wouldn't have minded. At least not for myself, only
perhaps Mrs. Partridge would have scolded Sarah if she had found out we
had been to the post-office."

"How _shall_ we get it posted?" said Tom. "If we had a stamp I could run
with it. I saw a box for letters a very little way round the corner."

"Did you?" I said. "That's a good thing. Let's wait a little, and
perhaps there'll come some chance of getting out. I should think we
could get a stamp at some shop--there were shops round the corner too."

It was a great satisfaction to have got the letter written. I looked at
it with a good deal of pride--the address I was sure was right, I had
copied it so exactly from the one at the end of Pierson's letter. Though
the boys did not know exactly what I had written to Pierson, they seemed
to feel happier since knowing I had written something, and they had a
vague idea that somehow or other brighter days would come for us in
consequence.

Uncle Geoff had not been up to see us this morning--nor had he sent for
us to go down. I was very glad, and yet I did not think it was at all
kind. I did not know till a good while afterwards that he had not been
at home since the day before, as he had been sent for to a distance to
see somebody who was very ill.

At one o'clock we had had our dinner--it was not as nice a one as we had
had the other days, and we said to each other it was because Mrs.
Partridge was angry still about the toast. We said so to Sarah too, and
though she made no reply we could see she thought the same.

"And we shall have no strawberry jam for tea to-night," said Tom, sadly.

"No 'tawbe