there, and I asked if it wasn't a Banksia. Then the little girl came
out of the house, and she happened to know who I am--"

"Astonishingly bright child!" said Mrs. Carew.

"Well, and then we talked roses, and the father came home--a nice
old man. And I asked him if he'd lend me Miss Thorne now and then to
play duets--and he agreed. So the child's been up to the Hall once
or twice, and she's a nice little thing. She doesn't care tuppence
for the Turner boy, but he's musical, and she's quite music-mad, and
now and then they 'accidentally' meet. Her father won't let anyone
see her at the house. She wants to study abroad, but they can't
afford it, I imagine, so I've written to see if I can interest a
friend of mine in Berlin--But why do you smile?" she broke off to
ask innocently.

"At the thought of your friend in Berlin!" said Mrs. Carew
audaciously. For she was not at all awed by Mrs. Burgoyne now.

Indeed, she and Mrs. Brown were growing genuinely fond of their new
neighbor, and the occupants of the Hall supplied them with constant
amusement and interest. Great lady and great heiress Sidney Burgoyne
might be, but she lived a life far simpler than their own, and loved
to have them come in for a few minutes' talk even if she were
cutting out cookies, with Joanna and Ellen leaning on the table, or
feeding the chickens whose individual careers interested her so
deeply. She walked with the little girls to school every morning,
and met them near the school at one o'clock. In the meantime she
made a visit to the Mail office, and perhaps spent an hour or two
there, or in the markets; but at least three times a week she