“Our name is Smith. I’m Delia Smith, and this is my sister Margaret. We don’t live here, and we--we didn’t exactly come to see you. We’d like to speak to your mother.” The little girl’s face fell. “I’m very sorry,” she said, “I hoped you had come to play with me. Mamma has gone to the station with Papa, but she won’t be gone very long. I hope you can wait.” “We can wait,” said Dulcie. She had taken a fancy to the pretty little girl, and was hoping that her mother might prove as friendly as herself. The child looked pleased. “All right,” she said, hospitably, “and while you’re waiting, perhaps you’d like to come and see the rabbits. They’re very cunning, and it’s about time I gave them their breakfast.” The prospect of feeding rabbits was very alluring, but Dulcie was mindful of the importance of maintaining her dignity. People looking for situations ought not to waste their time on anything so trivial as rabbits. “I think perhaps we’d better wait here,” she said. “Do you happen to know whether your mother needs any help?” “Help,” repeated the little girl, rather vaguely, “what kind of help?” “Oh, help in the house, or--or in the garden. Any kind that little girls could do. I thought she might want some one to wash the dishes, or make the beds, or----” “Oh, you mean a maid,” interrupted her new acquaintance, with sudden comprehension. “No, I’m sure Mamma doesn’t need any one. I heard her tell Papa all the servants were very satisfactory. What made you want to know?” “Because we--oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m afraid there isn’t any use of our waiting to see your mother, after all.” “Oh, please don’t go so soon,” pleaded the little girl, clasping her hands imploringly. “You’ve only just come, and I do want somebody to play with so much. Wait and see Mamma; you’ll love her, and perhaps she knows some lady who wants a maid. I suppose your mother wants to find a place for one, just as Mamma did when we went to Europe last year. Don’t you really think you’d like to come and see the rabbits?” “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we can’t,” interposed Daisy, firmly. “We’ve left our--some people waiting for us on the road, and they might get worried if we stay away too long.” “It will only take a few minutes to see the rabbits,” their new friend urged, “and Mamma will be back very soon. Do you think those people would mind waiting just a little longer?” Dulcie wavered. The little girl was so cordial; it seemed almost rude to refuse her invitation. She glanced appealingly at Daisy. “I think we might stay just a few minutes,” Daisy agreed. She loved pets, and to possess rabbits had long been an unfulfilled dream. So the question was settled, and five minutes later three very eager little girls were bending lovingly over a family of soft, wriggling baby rabbits. “They’re the cunningest things I ever saw,” declared Daisy, pressing one downy mite to her cheek. “I do wish Molly and Maud could see them.”