'There now,' he said, 'you see I was right. She doesn't mind a bit. I shouldn't wonder if she brought us out cakes too.'
'Hush,' said Frances, 'you needn't talk like that, Eugene. You were as frightened as anything when she first came out. And how can you be so greedy?'
'Hush,' said Jacinth in her turn, and still more authoritatively. 'Don't you hear? she's coming back.'
The door standing slightly ajar was pushed open more widely, disclosing a trim-looking maid, carrying a tray with a large glass jug full of milk, and – joyful sight! – a plate of small brown crisp-looking cakes. Eugene's eyes glistened, though, poor little chap, it was more at the sight of the milk than the cakes, for he was very thirsty indeed. But he sat still, to outward appearance patiently enough, for just behind the maid came the old lady again, looking quite eager and excited, a bright spot of colour on each cheek.
'Put the tray on the little table,' she said. 'Yes, that will do. You need not stay;' and the trim maid disappeared again.
Lady Myrtle poured out a glass of milk and gave it to Eugene.
'Your sisters will excuse my attending to you first, I am sure,' she said. 'You are very thirsty, I know. – Now, will you two have some milk and some cake?' she went on, turning to Jacinth and Frances.
Jacinth felt half inclined to refuse, but something in the old lady's manner made it difficult to do so. She did not seem accustomed to have even her suggestions disregarded, and her invitation was more like a command.
'After your brother has finished his milk,' their hostess went on, 'perhaps he would like to walk about the garden a little with your maid, or if he is tired, there is a nice arbour over there in the corner. I want to speak to you two a little. I have some questions to ask you, but I want you to understand that I will not invite you to come in till you have got leave from – from your parents or your guardians. When I was a child I would not have entered any stranger's house without leave, and I approve of strict ways of bringing up children.'
The girls listened respectfully, making a little sign of assent. But Eugene's whole attention had been given to the milk and cakes. Now that his thirst was satisfied, he began to think about others, and for the first time found his voice.
'Mayn't Phebe have some milk and cake, too, please?' he said. 'We've been a drefful long walk. I'm sure Phebe's firsty too.'
Phebe blushed scarlet, but in spite of her terror, her good manners – and she was a specially good-mannered girl – did not forsake her.
'Master Eugene, my dear,' she said quietly. 'You forget I am not a little young gentleman like you. – If I might take his glass and plate to the arbour, my lady, he would be very happy, and out of the way.'
Lady Myrtle smiled benignly. She liked 'tact.'
'Certainly, my good girl,' she said, 'and take a glass and some cakes for yourself too. – That is a nice-mannered girl,' she added to Jacinth and Frances. 'She is both modest and sensible.'
'Yes,' said Jacinth, 'we like her very much. Aunt Alison got her for us before we came here.'
Lady Myrtle's face grew grave.
'Is Aunt Alison the relation you live with?' she asked. 'Is her name Mrs Alison? And where and with whom did you live before? Have you no parents? I am not asking out of curiosity, but because I think you must be related to a very dear friend of mine – now dead.' Here her breath seemed to catch her voice. 'I may be mistaken, but I do not think so.'
'Our parents are in India,' said Jacinth. 'Our father is Colonel Mildmay, and Aunt Alison is his sister. Alison is her first name. We have only lived with her since our – grandmother, Mrs Denison, died.'
'Denison!' repeated Lady Myrtle, 'I was sure of it. But Mrs Denison? I cannot understand it. Are you not making a mistake, my dear? Are you sure that your grandmother was Mrs Denison? Was she not' —
'Mrs Denison was only our step-grandmother,' interrupted Jacinth, eagerly. Frances could not blame her now for explaining this! 'She was very good to us, but – she wasn't our own grandmother. She died before we were born. She was mamma's mother, and I am called after her. She was Lady Jacinth Denison, and' —
'I knew it,' exclaimed the old lady. 'And her name before she was married was' —
Jacinth hesitated a little. It is sometimes rather confusing to remember relations so far back.
'I know,' said Frances; 'it was More' – but here she too stopped.
'Moreland?' said Lady Myrtle.
The girls' faces cleared. Yes, that was it.
'But the Christian name – "Jacinth" – satisfied me,' said the old lady. 'The name, and your face, my dear,' to Jacinth herself. 'Thank you, for answering my questions. Perhaps I must not keep you any longer to-day, but I will write to your aunt – Miss Mildmay – Miss Alison Mildmay – I think I have heard of her at Thetford – and ask her to allow you to come to see me again very soon. If I keep you longer just now, she may be uneasy.'
'Oh no,' said Frances, 'she won't be at home when we get back. It's one of the days she's out all day – till after we're in bed, generally.'
'Dear me!' said Lady Myrtle, 'she must be a very busy person.'
'Yes,' said Jacinth, 'she is. She is very, very useful, I know. And one couldn't have expected her to give up all the things she'd been at so many years, all of a sudden, when we came. We don't mind, except that it seems a little lonely sometimes; but – I don't think Aunt Alison cares much for children or girls like us. She says she's got out of the way of it. But she's quite kind.'
'You have a governess, I suppose?' asked Lady Myrtle.
'No,' said Jacinth, 'we go every day but Saturday to Miss Scarlett's school.'
She coloured a little as she said it, for she had an instinct that 'school' for girls was hardly one of the things that her hostess had been accustomed to in her youth, and notwithstanding Jacinth's decision of character, she was apt to be much influenced by the opinions and even prejudices of those about her. But still she knew that Miss Scarlett's was really a somewhat exceptional school.
'To Miss Scarlett's,' repeated Lady Myrtle. 'I have heard of it. I believe it is very nice, but still – I prefer home education. But perhaps I should not say so. No doubt your parents and guardians have acted for the best. I should like you to tell Miss Alison Mildmay all I have asked you, and I will write to her. And in the meantime, that she may not think me too eccentric an old woman, pray tell her that I was – that your own grandmother – I like you to call her that – Lady Jacinth Moreland, afterwards Lady Jacinth Denison, and I, were the – yes, the very dearest of friends when we were young. It is possible that Miss Alison Mildmay may have heard my name from your mother. I think your mother – what is her name – "Eugenia," oh yes, I remember – I think your mother must have heard of me even in her childhood. My unmarried name was Harper, "Myrtle Harper;" your grandmother and I first took to each other, I think, because we had such uncommon names.'
'Harper!' exclaimed Frances eagerly, 'there are some – what is it, Jacinth? – I mean Bessie and Margar' —
'We must go,' said Jacinth, getting up, as she spoke. 'Frances, will you call Eugene? and' – turning to her hostess, 'thank you very much for being so kind. And oh, if you will ask Aunt Alison to let us come again, it would be such a pleasure.'
She raised her beautiful eyes to Lady Myrtle's face. A mist came over the keen bright old pair gazing at her in return. Partly perhaps to conceal this sudden emotion, Lady Myrtle stooped – for, tall though Jacinth was for her age, she was shorter than her grandmother's old friend – and kissed the soft up-turned cheek. 'My dear, you are so like her – my Jacinth, sometimes,' she murmured, 'that it is almost too much for me.'
Then a practical thought struck her.
'You have not told me your address at Thetford,' she said. 'I had better have it, though no doubt Miss Alison Mildmay is well known in the place.'
Jacinth