moment's fit of ill-temper.

"I wish you wouldn't talk that way, Dorcas," she said; "it makes me so
unhappy."

"What a feeling heart the child has!" said the old servant as she went
on her way downstairs. "It's true--she is very like Miss Sybilla."

That day was a very weary and sad one for Griselda. She was oppressed by
a feeling she did not understand. She knew she had done wrong, but she
had sorely repented it, and "I do think the cuckoo might have come back
again," she said to herself, "if he is a fairy; and if he isn't, it
can't be true what Dorcas says."

Her aunts made no allusion to the subject in her presence, and almost
seemed to have forgotten that she had known of their distress. They were
more grave and silent than usual, but otherwise things went on in their
ordinary way. Griselda spent the morning "at her tasks," in the
ante-room, but was thankful to get away from the tick-tick of the clock
in the corner and out into the garden.

But there, alas! it was just as bad. The rooks seemed to know that
something was the matter; they set to work making such a chatter
immediately Griselda appeared that she felt inclined to run back into
the house again.

"I am sure they are talking about me," she said to herself. "Perhaps
they are fairies too. I am beginning to think I don't like fairies."

She was glad when bed-time came. It was a sort of reproach to her to see