'And some day, Celestina,' Biddy went on, 'I want you to ask your mamma
to ask _me_ to tea, for I want to see your dolls.'

Celestina looked rather grave.

'I'll ask mother,' she said, but there was a little hesitation in her
manner. This did not come from any false shame--Celestina did not know
what false shame was--but from very serious doubts as to what her father
and mother would think of it. She had never had any friend to tea in her
life; father was always tired in the evening, and she was far from sure
that a chattering child like Biddy would not annoy him and make his head
ache. So poor Celestina was rather silent and grave on the way home;
Biddy's thoughtless proposal had taken the edge off her happiness.

On her way back to the house Bridget met Rosalys.

'Well,' said Alie, 'and how did you get on, Biddy? How do you like your
new governess?'

'_Ever_ so much better than Miss Millet,' Biddy replied. Her superhuman
exertions had somewhat tired her; she felt rather cross now, and half
inclined to quarrel. She knew that Alie was particularly fond of Miss
Millet, and she glanced at her curiously as she made her speech. But
Alie was a wise little woman.

'I'm so glad,' she said. 'So glad you like Miss Neale, I mean. Of course
I knew you'd like Celestina.'

'I don't like her so very much as all that,' said Biddy contradictorily.
'I like her well enough to do lessons with, but she's not very nice