trellis-work. The pretty scentless blossoms were but just caught, when a
rattling of wheels was heard on the stony lane which led from the
high-road to the cottage.

"Who can be coming now? Margery is out, mamma, and the gate is fastened;
I must go and open it."

She darted into the house on her errand--for the principal entrance was
in the gable end of the building--but before she had had time to cross
the parlour and hall to the outer door, the little garden-gate opened,
and a very pretty woman in a grey cloak and straw hat came through, and
up the verandah steps with the air of a person perfectly at home.

Mrs. Costello rose to meet her with an exclamation.

"Mrs. Bellairs! We never thought of it being you. Lucia is gone to open
the gate."

"I found the little one open; so I left Bella to take care of Bob, and
came round. In fact, I ought not to be here at all, but as I wanted to
persuade you about to-morrow, I ran away the moment dinner was over, and
must run back again instantly."

"Sit down, at any rate, while you _are_ here."

She sat down, and taking off her hat, threw it on the floor.

"How delicious this is! I believe you don't know what heat means. I have
been half dead all day, and not a moment's rest, I assure you, with the
people continually coming to ask some stupid question or to borrow