Palpitating with wonder and pleasure, Phoebe escaped. Such permission, over-riding all Juliana's injunctions, was worth a few nettle stings and a great fright; for Phoebe was not philosopher enough, in spite of Miss Fennimore--ay, and of Robert--not to have a keen desire to see a great party. Her delay had so much convinced the sisters that her expedition had had some fearful consequences, that Maria was already crying lest dear Phoebe should be in disgrace; and Bertha had seated herself on the balusters, debating with herself whether, if Phoebe were suspected of the trick (a likely story) and condemned to lose her visit to London, she would confess herself the guilty person. And when Phoebe came back, too much overcome with delight to do anything but communicate papa's goodness, and rejoice in the unlimited power of making presents, Bertha triumphantly insisted on her confessing that it had been a capital thing that the nettles were in Juliana's nosegay! Phoebe shook her head; too happy to scold, too humble to draw the moral that the surest way to gratification is to remove the thorns from the path of others. CHAPTER III She gives thee a garland woven fair, Take care! It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear, Beware! Beware! Trust her not, She is fooling thee!--LONGFELLOW, from MULLER Behold Phoebe Fulmort seated in a train on the way to London. She was a very pleasant spectacle to Miss Charlecote opposite to her, so peacefully joyous was her face, as she sat with the wind breathing in on her, in the calm luxury of contemplating the landscape gliding past the windows in all its summer charms, and the repose of having no one to hunt her into unvaried rationality. Her eye was the first to detect Robert in waiting at the terminus, but he looked more depressed than ever, and scarcely smiled as he handed them to the carriage. 'Get in, Robert, you are coming home with us,' said Honor. 'You have so much to take, I should encumber you.' 'No, the sundries go in cabs, with the maids. Jump in.' 'Do your friends arrive to-night?' 'Yes; but that is no reason you should look so rueful! Make the most of Phoebe beforehand. Besides, Mr. Parsons is a Wykehamist.' Robert took his place on the back seat, but still as if he would have preferred walking home. Neither his sister nor his friend dared to ask whether he had seen Lucilla. Could she have refused him? or was her frivolity preying on his spirits? Phoebe tried to interest him by the account of the family migration, and of Miss Fennimore's promise that Maria and Bertha should have two half-hours of real play in the garden on each day when the lessons had been properly done; and how she had been so kind as to let Maria leave off trying to read a French book that had proved too hard for her, not perceiving why this instance of good-nature was not cheering to her brother.