y voice.

"Her wouldn't _whip_ us," observed Racey.

"No, she would try to teach us to be good," I said. "I'm sure I'd try to
be good if I was with her. Tom," I went on--and here I really must put
down what I said, whether it vexes somebody or not--"Tom, do you know, I
think her face is just exactly like an angel's when you look at it quite
close."

"Or a fairy's," said Tom.

"No," I said, "an angel's. Fairies are more merry looking than she is.
She has such a kind, sorry look--that's why I think her face is like an
angel's."

Tom gave a great sigh.

"What's the matter, Tom?" I said.

"I don't know. I think I've got a headache," said Tom.

"But aren't you glad Miss Goldy-hair's coming to fetch us?" I said in my
turn.

"Kite early," said Racey.

"Yes, quite early. She promised," I said. "Aren't you glad, Tom?"

"Yes," said Tom, "but I'm sleepy."

I began to be afraid that he was not quite well. Perhaps it was with
being so frightened and crying so the night before. I made Racey be
quite still, and I didn't speak any more, and in a little I heard by
Tom's breathing that he had gone to sleep again. He was still asleep
when Sarah came up-stairs to dress us, and I was rather glad, for there
were several things I wanted to ask her. Mrs. Partridge had come back,
she told me, but much later than she had expected, for she had missed
her train and got her best bonnet spoilt walking to the station, and she
was very cross.

"But she doesn't know anything about us being out last night?" I said to
Sarah.

"Of course not, Miss Audrey. It isn't likely as _I_'d tell her. But I
can't think why you didn't ask me to post your letter instead of
thinking of going off like that yourselves. I'll never forget to the
last day of my life how frightened I was when I couldn't find you."

"I didn't want to ask you to post it, because I thought perhaps Mrs.
Partridge would find out, and then she'd scold you," I said.

Sarah looked mollified.

"Scoldings don't do much good to anybody, it seems to me," she remarked.
"I hope your uncle won't scold you," she added. "He was a good while at
that lady's last night, but I shouldn't think she's one to make
mischief."

"Did he go last night?" I asked, rather anxiously.

"Yes, Miss Audrey. I gave him the card, and he went off at once.
Benjamin"--that was Uncle Geoff's footman--"Benjamin says she's a young
lady whose mother died not long ago. He knows where she lives and all,
but I did