Becky had a faint tinge of colour in her face now, like a China rose washed in the rain; her dark eyes looked brighter, and when she smiled, something that would soon be a dimple showed in her cheek. "Very well, thank you," she answered. "I can walk a bit now. This morning I walked as far as yonder rose-bush, and to-morrow I'm goin' to try and get up to the big tree." "Very well" might have sounded faint praise for the Manor Farm to unaccustomed ears; but Maisie knew that the country-people used the term to express the very highest satisfaction, so she was quite content. From their snug corner under the shady veranda, the children watched the arrival of the guests, as they came out of the house in twos and threes, and moved into the bright sunshine on the lawn. "It's like looking at a peep-show or a magic-lantern," said Maisie; "we're in the shadow and they're in the light. Now I'll tell you who they are. Here's Mrs Broadbent and Emmeline and Lilian." Mrs Broadbent and her two daughters stopped on their way to make many excuses for the absence of Mr Broadbent. "He's such a one, Mr Solace, for sticking to his work; isn't he, girls? I said this morning, `Now do take a little rest, papa, this afternoon, and leave things to your bailiff for once.' But no. `The master's eye,' he says, `does more work than both his hands.'" "Well, he's in the right there," said Mr Solace good-humouredly. "That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?" she went on, her sharp eye catching sight of the children, "and her cousin, Miss Trevor? How delicate she looks, poor child!" She nodded and smiled graciously. "No, that's not Miss Trevor," replied Mr Solace; "that's my wheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here for change of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit." "So _odd_!" remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved on into the garden. "I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line _somewhere_." "There's Mr Hurst," continued Maisie; "he's our vicar, you know; and the little lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives with him. And he's talking to your doctor, Dr Price. I wish he was our doctor, but we're never ill, so it doesn't matter much. I like Dr Price, ever since he told me about the kitten, only I wish he wouldn't keep such cruel dogs. Where _is_ the kitten? Didn't you bring her?" There was a little lump on Becky's knees covered up by her pinafore. She lifted a corner of it, and showed the grey kitten snugly asleep, curled up like a ball. "I was afraid so many strange folk would scare her," she said. The garden was soon full of the sound of voices and laughter, and alive with many-coloured figures. Preparations for tea began to appear in the veranda, and presently Dennis and Philippa came slowly back with heated faces, each bearing a cabbage-leaf full of strawberries.