"How tired that poor little girl will be!" said Mrs. Desart pityingly. "Children, you must all be quiet in the morning so as not to wake her early. And you must be very gentle and kind to her, for you know she is not accustomed to companions." "Yes, mamma," said Floss and Carrots promptly. Mott said nothing, for, _of course_, the speech could not have been addressed to _him_. Mr. Maurice Desart, nearly thirteen years old, could not be supposed to be a companion to a mite of a girl of six. "It won't be difficult to be quiet to-morrow morning," said Floss to Carrots, "for I expect I shall be very sleepy, as I have _quite_ made up my mind to stay awake to-night, till I hear them come." It was then eight o'clock, and Floss was going to bed. Carrots had been in bed nearly an hour, but was not yet asleep. He soon dropped off, however, and how long do you think Floss kept awake? Till twenty-three minutes past eight, or not so late probably, for that was the time by the nursery clock, when nurse came in to see that her charges were tucked up for the night, and found them both fast asleep! They were in a state of great expectation the next morning when they were being dressed, but they remembered their promise and were very quiet. "When shall we see Sybil?" asked Carrots; "will she have breakfast in the nursery?" "Of course not," said Floss, "she won't be up for ever so long, I dare say." "Poor little thing, she must be very tired," said nurse. "Did you see her last night?" asked Floss eagerly. Nurse shook her head. "It was past ten when they arrived," she said, "the little lady was put to bed at once, your mamma and sisters only saw her for a minute." So Floss and Carrots ate their bread and milk in undiminished curiosity. Not long afterwards the bell rang for prayers in the dining-room as usual, and the two, hand in hand, went in to take their places among the others. They were rather late, Captain Desart had the Prayer Book and Bible open before him, and was looking impatient, so Floss and Carrots sat down on their little chairs and left "good-mornings" till after prayers. There was a strange lady beside their mother, and, yes, beside the strange lady a strange little girl! Was _that_ Sybil? Where was the fair-haired, blue-eyed, waxen, doll-like Sybil, they had expected to see? What they did see was worth looking at, however. It was a very pretty Sybil after all. Small and dark, dark-eyed, dark-haired, and browny-red as to complexion, Sybil was more like a gipsy than an angel as they had fancied her. She had _very_ pretty, very bright, noticing eyes, and she was pretty altogether. She was dressed in black velvet with a bright crimson sash, and her hair was tied with crimson ribbon; her neat little legs were clothed in black silk stockings, and there were buckles on her tiny shoes.