'I want to speak to you a moment, aunty,' she said, and Miss Clotilda turned back with her.

'Do you remember, aunty,' she said, 'that one day, when I first came, you said you would show me some of the pieces of old silk and things of Mrs. Wynne's? And I think you said you'd give me one or two. Would you let us see them? And do you think you could give Phil some? She's taken such a fancy in her head;' and Kathie went on to explain about the box going out to India, and the pincushion old Mrs. Davis had shown them, which Philippa so much wished to copy for her mother.

'And,' Kathie went on, 'I've another idea too. We were thinking it would be very difficult to get a box to make it with. That morning when the cupboard was left open in my room, I saw several old pincushions that you said you had meant to cover fresh. Might, oh! _might_ we have two of them? We could easily get some plain thin silk for lining them with--Phil has some money, and I have a very little--if some of the nice old pieces would do for the outside.'

Miss Clotilda looked a little bewildered.

'Two, my dear?' she said. 'I thought it was Philippa who wanted to make one. Do you want one too?'

Kathie blushed a little.

'They said,' she began, 'Neville and Phil said, it would be so nice if I made one for mamma too. I've never made her anything--I don't like sewing, you know, aunty, and she's always writing about things like that.'

Miss Clotilda patted Kathie's head.

'Yes, dear,' she said; 'I do think it would be very nice indeed. I am sure it would please your mamma. I am almost sure I can give you two of the soiled ones that you can undo and cover and line freshly. If you undo them carefully, you will see exactly how they are made without my helping you. You would rather make them all by yourselves, would you not?'

'Yes,' said Kathie, 'if we can. It would be much nicer, as they are to be presents to our mothers. Thank you _so_ much, aunty.'

'I will bring down the bundle of old pieces this evening, if you like,'

Miss Clotilda went on. 'I know exactly where they are; I can put my hand upon them in a moment. It will amuse us to look them over and choose which will do.'

And the kind creature set off up-stairs at once to fetch them, while Kathie, overjoyed, ran to tell Philippa the success of her application.

The pieces of silk proved quite as interesting as they expected.

'It reminds me,' said Miss Clotilda, with a smile, 'of Mrs. Goodrich in "The Fairchild Family," a story I read when I was little, when she gave Bessy and Lucy and Emily each two pieces of old brocaded silk or satin as a test of their neat-handedness. You have never seen the book, but it was a very favourite one of mine as a child.'

And she went on to tell them the rest of the story of the patches of silk, how the good little girls turned theirs to purpose, and how the poor naughty girl threw a bottle of ink over hers.

'Poor naughty girl!' said Kathie. 'I am afraid I must be rather like her, aunty. And Philippa is like all the good little girls rolled into one. Oh, aunty! what a lovely piece that is!'

[Ill.u.s.tration]

It was a narrow satin and silk stripe of a curious salmon colour, and here and there were little daisies embroidered in gold thread. There was another pale grey satin, with wreaths of flowers running all over it, which was greatly to Philippa's taste; and as there was enough for the purpose of each of these, Miss Clotilda gave them to the children. Then a letter had to be written to be sent by the carrier to the draper's at Hafod, where Mrs. Wynne had always dealt, to order a yard of plain rose-coloured silk for Philippa, and the same quant.i.ty of white for Kathie, as linings for both pincushions. A contrast would be best, Miss Clotilda told them, as it was all but impossible to match the strange and delicate shades of the old silks, except perhaps in very rich and expensive materials. Bedtime had come before all this was done, and the children went off to dream of 'flowered padusoy,' and pearl-grey satins 'that would stand alone.'

Miss Clotilda had some difficulty the next morning in persuading them to go for a walk early and not to set to work till later.

'It will be very hot this afternoon,' she said. 'Indeed, I think there is thunder not far off. You will have a nice quiet time for getting to work after dinner, and I will look out the old pincushions this morning.'

They set off, though rather reluctantly, for Kathie, now that she had taken up the idea, was more full of it than even Philippa. And she was much less ready than Philippa to yield her wishes and opinions to those of others.

It did not rain that afternoon, but, as Miss Clotilda had foreseen, it was very hot. And the children, all three--for Neville too seemed bitten by the pincushion mania--found it very pleasant to sit round a table in the nice cool library, busy with their work.

There was not much they could do at first beyond unpicking and measuring. Miss Clotilda had given them two of the pincushions out of the cupboard, and, as Philippa had foreseen, when they came to take them carefully to pieces, they found that there would really be more work to do than they had expected.

'What patience Mrs. Wynne must have had,' said Kathie, 'to do them so beautifully! Did you ever see anything so neat? Just look at the hemming of this frill, Phil.'

Philippa took it up to admire.

'We might hem our frills this afternoon,' she said, 'and then to-morrow, when we have the silk from Hafod, we can go on with the linings.'

'I do hope to-morrow will be a wet day,' said Kathie. 'We could get on so splendidly if it were.'

Neville looked up suddenly from one of the now uncovered pincushions which he had been examining.

'You've forgotten about the scent,' he said.

'No, we haven't,' said Kathleen. 'Aunty has some sachet-powder she is going to give us.'

'And I'll tell you what,' he went on, 'you'd better get some fresh bran.

This cushion does smell a little musty, and it won't be much trouble to unfasten it from the top of the box, and fill it fresh. Look, it's only tacked down at the corners. The silk top keeps it in its place. Mrs.

Wynne must have been a faddy old lady. Just see--there's a sheet of note-paper under the cushion--and the date she made it.'

He drew out the paper as he spoke. On it was written, as he said, the date, 'Ty-gwyn, January 24th, 1865.'

'What a good plan!' said Philippa; 'the thick paper keeps it all so nice and even--perhaps she did it for that too. Let us put papers in ours with the date, Kathie. Perhaps our great-grandchildren will find them some day. We'd better put our names too.'

Kathie had no objection. And Neville very good-naturedly went off to the 'shop' to get some nice bran, to be ready for to-morrow.

CHAPTER XII.

FOUND.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative I]

t actually rained the next day!

'Who would have thought it?' said Kathie, with a face of great content.

'The weather so seldom does what one wants.'

'We can set to work immediately after breakfast,' said Philippa. For the rose-coloured silk and the white had come from Hafod the evening before, 'just what one wanted,' and Miss Clotilda had given them the satchet-powder, and had promised to look out some lace that would do for edging. 'We have got everything right now,' the little girl went on, her eyes sparkling.

So they established themselves in the library, with a newspaper spread out on the table to catch all the shreds and cuttings.

'And the bran,' added Neville, as he brought in a paper bag filled with the article in question. 'Bran's awfully messy stuff.'

He opened the bag as he spoke, and plunged his hand in.

'I like the feeling of it,' he said.

Philippa stood gazing at the paper bag.

'Is that bran?' she said, 'Let me feel it too. I didn't know bran was like that,' she went on; 'I thought it was something like cotton-wool.'