“You had better stop here for to-night,” said Queenie, with her little air of command; “nobody will come till the housemaid goes round in the morning; I don’t know if she comes every day when you are all away. There is the wardrobe cupboard you could hide in, if you heard anybody coming, but I’ll take care nobody does to-day. To-morrow morning early, I think, you’ll have to get out of the window and down by the ivy and hide somewhere in the garden till we can settle something. If I were you, I’d get over the fence and hide in one of the Squire’s shrubberies, and I’ll come to you as soon as ever I can.” Phil nodded his head approvingly. “That’s the sort of thing, Queenie, that’s the sort of thing;” and after ten minutes’ animated discussion their plans till the morrow were all carefully laid. Then Queenie had to effect her escape unseen, for nursery tea was imminent; and then there was the difficult and delicate task of obtaining some substantial supplies and conveying them to Phil. Queenie, however, proved herself equal to the occasion. She wandered innocently down to the housekeeper’s room, where she was always welcome, and paid a visit to cook in the larder, and admired very much a row of meat pies that she had lately taken from the oven. As she was wandering about in the aimless way that children do when they find themselves amongst indulgent old servants, who are pleased to see them about their premises, she was aware of a commotion in the servants’ hall. “Cook!” cried a voice from thence,—“only think, cook, a telegram has just come from the master to say that Master Phil has run away from school, and can’t be heard of anywhere!” Cook threw up her hands in dismay at the news, and hurried away to learn all particulars. Queenie was sharp enough to know that for the next few minutes all the servants would be congregated together to hear the news and discuss it with keen interest and wonder. She therefore acted with care and deliberation, took down one savory pie from the shelf, rearranging the rest so that it was not likely to be missed, and stole quietly and coolly away with her prize, no hurried movement or undue excitement hindering her from carrying out her design in the best possible way. Bread and all other additions were easily obtained from the nursery table, and Phil supped sumptuously that night. The little girl was told nothing about her brother, for which she was glad, in case her face might betray her; but when she went down to dessert that evening, she fancied her mother seemed rather nervous and put out, and she was a little troubled at first; but as she left the room, she was reassured by hearing her father say,— “Of course I will go over to-morrow and see about it, but you may trust Phil for looking after himself. He’ll come to no harm, you may be sure; he’ll be turning up like a bad halfpenny somewhere before another day is out. You see if he doesn’t.”