Rose did not feel as if she could care for the boy at such a moment, and just then old Mrs. Rowe, brought by the sound of voices, came in by the back door. "Ay! Rose Lee," she said. "If you wants to know where your fine niece is, just look here. I never knew no good come of bringing up young folks to be better than their neighbours, going about a visiting as if they was ladies." Rose had reached the back garden, and over the broken-down little gate she saw--in the path shaded by the coppice--three figures whom she knew only too well, sauntering towards the stile leading into the lane. She felt quite giddy, as she called out sharply, "Amy Lee!" There was a great start. The three stood still, and looked about as if to see where the voice came from. Rose, recollecting the old woman's malicious eyes, got over the stile and came towards them. They had seen her by this time; she perceived that they were whispering; then the man retreated, and Florence and Amy came towards her, Florence holding Amy's hand, and pushing to the front. "Miss Lee," she said, "we weren't doing no harm. Only taking a walk before coming in." "Florence Cray," returned Miss Lee, "I don't want to have anything to say to you. If you have been teaching Amy to deceive her father and me, so much the worse. You need not come to work this afternoon. My sister, Mrs. Cuthbert, is come to see us, so I shall not require you. Come here, Amy." "You'll not be hard on her, Miss Lee," entreated good-natured Florence, feeling Amy's fingers cling to her. "I do assure you there's been nothing no one could except against. It's been all most prudent and proper all along." "I said I don't wish to hear nothing from you," said Rose. "If you call it prudent and proper to be walking with young men, when she is trusted to read to a sick child, I don't know what I shall hear next. Come here, Amy; come home with me." "Indeed, aunt," sobbed Amy, "I've been in every day to see him." "Come home now, Amy," said her aunt; "I can't talk to you now! No, don't cry--don't speak! I won't have you making yourself a show to the whole place any more than you have done already. That you should have deceived us so!" she sighed to herself. She was taking Amy in, not by the garden, but round the corner of the lane, to give a little more time for her to recover herself, and also to avoid facing Mrs. Rowe's eager eyes. "Please don't tell father," once sighed Amy. "Do you think I am going to be as deceitful as yourself?" was all the answer she got.