there had to be a great hunt for Dolores in the drawing-room and
garden, and when at last Miss Hacket's calls for her sister brought the
tow downstairs more than ten minutes had passed! Mysie was too much
dismayed, and in too great a hurry to do anything but cry, 'Come along,
Dolores,' and set off at such a gallop as to scandalize the Londoner,
even when Mysie recollected that it was too public a place for running,
and slackened her pace. Dolores was soon gasping, and with a stitch in
her side. Mysie would have exclaimed, 'What were you doing with Miss
Constance?' but breathlessness happily prevented it. The way across
the paddock seemed endless, and Mysie was chafed at having to hold back
for her companion, who panted in distress, leant against a tree,
declared she could not go on, she did not care, and then when, Mysie
set off running, was seized with fright at being left alone in this
vast unknown space, cried after her and made a rush, soon ending in
sobbing breath.

At last they were at the door, and Wilfred just coming out of the
dining-room greeted them with, 'A quarter to twelve. Won't you catch
it? Oh my!'

'Are they come?' said Lady Merrifield, looking out of the schoolroom.
'My dear children! Did Miss Hacket keep you?'

'No, mamma,' gasped Mysie. 'At least it was my fault for watching the
doves.'

'Ah! Mysie, I must not send you on a message next time. Mr. Poulter
has been waiting these twenty minutes, and I am afraid you are not fit
to take a lesson now. Dolores looks quite done up! I shall send you
both to lie down on your beds and learn your poetry for an hour. And