'Which would you rather have, dear children?' said Miss Clotilda.

Neville decided in favour of bread and b.u.t.ter, and though Kathleen said she was too tired to eat, she succeeded in the end in getting through two good slices of the delicious home-made bread and fresh b.u.t.ter.

Thanks to this and the cup of hot milk, her spirits began to revive, and she even got the length of smiling graciously when poor Miss Clotilda's self-reproaches grew too vehement, and a.s.suring her aunt that she would be all right again to-morrow. Indeed, it would have required a much harder heart than childish, impulsive Kathie's to have resisted any one so affectionate and devoted as their father's sister, and already Neville's eyes sparkled with pleasure as he said to himself it felt almost like having a mother again.

Then old Martha, who had been busy up-stairs, came back to say the rooms were ready,--so far ready, that is to say, as they could be on such short notice.

'Not but that they were _nearly_ ready,' said Miss Clotilda, as she led the way; 'we were looking for you to-morrow without fail. But it was all my fault for saying I would expect you on Thursday if I did _not_ hear to the contrary. I should have asked you to write again.'

'But I did write,' cried Neville. 'I wrote at once, and sent on the letter to Kathie to post. You should have had it yesterday morning.'

'Yes,' said Kathie, 'I--I gave it to Miss Fraser with my note to Neville, saying, that I could be ready on Wednesday. You got my note, of course, Neville. And I--yes, I am sure I gave the one for Aunt Clotilda to be posted at the same time.'

But Aunt Clotilda had never got it. So, _she_, at any rate, was undeserving of all the blame Kathleen had been heaping upon her in the last few hours.

'It must be that careless old John Parry,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I must speak to him in the morning. No doubt he will be bringing the letter, and say it had been overlooked or something. And, my dear children, you must forgive all deficiencies. I had arranged all so nicely. Our neighbour, Mr. Mortimer, was to lend me his covered waggonette to go to meet you in. It is too provoking!'

There were no deficiencies, however, so far, that the children were conscious of, excepting the want of their luggage. Their rooms were charming--so quaint and country-like, with a pleasant odour of lavender and dried rose leaves pervading everything. And Miss Clotilda got out her keys and opened an old wardrobe in Kathie's room, whence she chose a little nightdress of the finest material trimmed with 'real' lace, which Martha aired at the kitchen fire by way of precaution against damp, though the whole house was so dry, she a.s.sured them, that such care was really not necessary.

'It is one of Mrs. Wynne's--one of a set that she never wore,' explained Miss Clotilda, 'and it will be just about right for you, Kathie dear, for, tall as you are, you will have to grow some inches yet to be up to _me_. Mrs. Wynne was quite one of the old school; she had linen enough laid by to have lasted her another twenty years. And Mr. Wynne-Carr wishes all such things to be considered mine,' she added, with a little sigh, 'so I am free to give you the use of it, you see.'

This was the first allusion to the great disappointment. Tired as she was, Kathie could not help thinking of it as she was falling asleep. And her dreams were haunted by fancies about the lost will--it turned up in all sorts of places. The queerest dream of all was that she found it boiling in the pan in which Martha had heated the milk!

CHAPTER VII.

BREAKFAST IN BED.

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

otwithstanding her great fatigue, it was very early the next morning when Kathleen woke. At first she could not remember where she was, then a slight aching in her head and stiff pains in her legs reminded her of the long and trying journey of the day before. Now that it was over, however, it really seemed like a dream.

And one glance towards the window, of which the blind had only been half drawn down, made it almost impossible to believe in the darkness and dreariness of their arrival the night before. The rain was gone; the sun, though it could not be more than six o'clock, was shining brilliantly in an unclouded sky. From where Kathie lay she could see the fresh green leaves of the trees as they moved gently in the soft summer air; she could faintly hear the birds' busy, cheerful twitter, as they flew from branch to branch.

'Oh, I do love the country!' thought the little girl, with a sudden feeling of warmth and joyfulness in her heart. 'I do wish--oh, how I do wish it were going to be our home!'

Then there returned to her the remembrance of Miss Clotilda's last words the night before. The cupboard door had not been quite shut, and it had gradually swung open, revealing piles of linen neatly arranged on one shelf, on another various dresses folded away, and on a lower shelf, which Kathie could see into more clearly, some rolls of canvas, bundles of Berlin wool, and in one corner two or three square-looking objects of various colours, which puzzled her as to what they could be.

'I will ask Aunt Clotilda,' she thought. 'I daresay she will show me Mrs. Wynne's things. Some of them must be very old and curious. What a funny room this is!--all corners, and the window such a queer shape! I feel quite in a hurry to see all the house. I daresay it is very nice--the hall and the staircase seemed beautifully wide last night, and the steps were so broad and shallow. But, oh dear! I wish my legs didn't ache so! Poor Aunt Clotilda! I am very sorry I called her stupid, and all that. She is so kind.'

But in the midst of all these thinkings she fell asleep again, and slept for more than two hours. When she woke she heard a cuckoo clock outside her room striking eight.

'Dear me!' she said to herself; 'how late it is! and I meant to be up so early;' and she was just beginning to get out of bed when a soft tap came to the door.

'Come in,' said Kathleen; and in came Aunt Clotilda, her kind face and gentle eyes looking brighter and younger by daylight, and behind her, Martha, carrying a tray covered with a snow-white cloth, on which was arranged a most dainty little breakfast for the young lady, whom Miss Clotilda evidently intended to pet a great deal to make up for yesterday's misfortunes.

'Oh, aunty,' said Kathie, 'I was just going to get up. I am so sorry to give you so much trouble,' and she lifted up her face to kiss Miss Clotilda.

'No, no, my dear,' her aunt replied. 'You are to rest to-day as much as you like. Neville is up, and he and I have had our breakfast. He peeped in an hour ago, and saw you were fast asleep, as I was glad to hear. It is just nine o'clock, so I thought you must be getting hungry.'

'Nine o'clock!' Kathleen repeated. 'Why, I thought the cuckoo struck eight.'

'He is a lazy bird,' said Miss Clotilda smiling. 'He is always an hour behind. I must get him put right--at least,' she went on, correcting herself, 'I meant to have done so. It is not worth while now. Now, dear, see if we have brought you what you like for your breakfast.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'IT IS DELICIOUS' SAID KATHLEEN.]

'It is delicious!' said Kathleen. 'I could live on the bread and b.u.t.ter alone, without anything else. And honey! Oh, how lovely! Aunt Clotilda, I have never been so petted before,' she burst out, 'never in all my life. How very good you are! Do you know I've been more than six years at school without ever having what _I_ call a holiday till now? Do kiss me, aunty.'

Kathie's heart was fairly won. There were tears in Miss Clotilda's eyes as she stooped to kiss her.

'But they are not unkind to you at school, dear?' she said. 'If you are ever ill, for instance.'

'Oh, no, they are kind enough; but it's different--not the least like _home_. I can understand better already what other girls who can remember their homes meant when they said so. Philippa Harley, you know, aunty--oh no, of course you don't know; but I'll tell you about her. She has always been with her mother till lately, and she was always saying how different _home_ was.'

Martha had by this time disappeared. Miss Clotilda sat down by the bed-side, while Kathie proceeded to eat her breakfast, chattering in the intervals.

'You make me very happy, dear Kathie, when you say you have already a home feeling with me,' said Miss Clotilda--'very happy, and,' with the sigh that Kathleen was at no loss to translate, 'very unhappy.'

For a few moments neither spoke. Then Kathleen began again.

'Aunty, even though the house isn't going to be yours any more, or ours, you'll show us all the things in it, won't you?'

'Certainly, my dear. I want you to know it well, and to remember it always,' Miss Clotilda replied.

Kathie's glance just then fell on the lace frills of her night-gown, and thence strayed to the half-open cupboard.

'What are those queer-looking square things of different colours in there, aunty?' she asked.

Miss Clotilda's glance followed hers. Just at that moment Neville put his head in at the door, and asked if he might come in. His face beamed with pleasure when he saw Kathleen and his aunt chatting together so 'friendlily.'

'Those things in the cupboard?' said Miss Clotilda. 'Oh! they are some of Mrs. Wynne's pincushions. I wrapped up the new ones--one or two she had just finished, poor dear, when she was taken ill--and those are some old ones that were to have been fresh covered. I have lots of beautiful pieces of old-fashioned silk.'

'Oh, how nice!' said Kathleen. 'I hope you will let me see them, aunty.

But please tell me'--

At that moment, however, Martha came to the door to say that John Williams had called for orders about fetching the trunks from the station.

'He must have some writing to show, he says,' said the old woman. 'But he's so stupid--maybe he doesn't understand.'

'It's better, perhaps, to give him a note to the station-master,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I'll come and speak to him.'

'I'll write the note,' said Neville running off.

'Aunty,' said Kathie, as Miss Clotilda was preparing to follow him, 'mayn't I get up now? I'm only a little stiff, but I'm not at all tired; and I'm in such a hurry to see the house, and the garden, and everything.'

'Very well, dear,' her aunt replied. 'Martha will get your bath ready.