dinner was served--that solitary meal at which she had sat down,
heart-broken, for so many weary years.

She answered, "Very well," but never stirred from her seat.

Phoebe fidgeted about the room for a while, and then, with the freedom
of a favorite attendant, she came to the side of the countess and,
smiling archly, said:

"My lady."

"Well, Phoebe?"

"People needn't starve, need they, because they are going back to their
'ain countrie'?"

Lady Hurstmonceux smiled faintly, roused herself, and went down to
dinner.

On her return to her room she found her maid locking the last trunks.

"Is everything packed, Phoebe?"

"Except the dress you have on, my lady; and I can lay that on the top of
this trunk after you put on your traveling dress."

"And you are glad we are going home, my girl?"

"Oh, my lady, I feel as if I could just spread out my arms and fly for
joy."