On the other side of their own fence, knee-deep in dry uncut grass, they
stood together a few paces from the gap he had made, and proffered their
earnest thanks.

"Say," said Harkness, abruptly, "d'you often see Miss White up to your
house?"

"Eliza, do you mean?" said they, with just a slight intonation to
signify that they did not look upon her as a "Miss." Their further
answer represented the exact extent of their knowledge in the matter.
"She didn't come much for a good while, but last week she came to tea.
It is arranged for mamma to ask her to tea once in a while, and we're
all to try and be nice to her, because--well, our sister says, now that
people pay her attentions, she ought to have a place where she can come
to, where she can feel she has friends."

"How d'ye mean--'pay her attentions'?"

"That was what we heard sister Sophia say," they replied, pursing up
their little lips. They knew perfectly well what the phrase meant, but
they were not going to confess it. The arts of those who are on the
whole artless are very pretty.

"Say, d'ye think Miss White's got the least bit of a heart about her
anywheres?"

"We don't know exactly what you mean"--with dignity--"but one of the
ladies who boards at the hotel told mamma that Eliza _always_ behaves
_admirably_'; that's part of the reason we're having her to tea."