'Why have you chosen Knollsea?' inquired Picotee.

'Because of aunt's letter from Rouen--have you seen it?'

'I did not read it through.'

'She wants us to get a copy of the register of her baptism; and she is
not absolutely certain which of the parishes in and about Knollsea they
were living in when she was born. Mother, being a year younger, cannot
tell of course. First I thought of writing to the clergyman of each
parish, but that would be troublesome, and might reveal the secret of my
birth; but if we go down there for a few days, and take some lodgings, we
shall be able to find out all about it at leisure. Gwendoline and Joey
can attend to mother and the people downstairs, especially as father will
look in every evening until he goes out of town, to see if they are
getting on properly. It will be such a weight off my soul to slip away
from acquaintances here.'

'Will it?'

'Yes. At the same time I ought not to speak so, for they have been very
kind. I wish we could go to Rouen afterwards; aunt repeats her
invitation as usual. However, there is time enough to think of that.'

Ethelberta was dressed at last, and, beholding the lonely look of poor
Picotee when about to leave the room, she could not help having a
sympathetic feeling that it was rather hard for her sister to be denied
so small an enjoyment as a menial peep at a feast when she herself was to
sit down to it as guest.