"But, my dear--"

She was interrupted by the entrance of a fine tall blooming girl of
eighteen, holding in her hand a pretty little maid of five. "Good-
morning. Miss Winter. I suppose Flora has told you the request we
have to make to you?"

"Yes, my dear Margaret, but did your mamma consider what a lawless
place Cocksmoor is?"

"That was the doubt," said Margaret, "but papa said he would answer
for it nothing would happen to us, and mamma said if you would be so
kind."

"It is unlucky," began the governess, but stopped at the incursion of
some new-comers, nearly tumbling over each other, Ethel at the head
of them. "Oh, Harry!" as the gathers of her frock gave way in the
rude grasp of a twelve-year-old boy. "Miss Winter, 'tis all right--
Mr. Ernescliffe says he is quite up to the walk, and will like it
very much, and he will undertake to defend you from the quarrymen."

"Is Miss Winter afraid of the quarrymen?" hallooed Harry. "Shall I
take a club?"

"I'll take my gun and shoot them," valiantly exclaimed Tom; and while
threats were passing among the boys, Margaret asked, in a low voice,
"Did you ask him to come with us?"

"Yes, he said he should like it of all things. Papa was there, and
said it was not too far for him--besides, there's the donkey. Papa