"Thank you, Dorcas," she said, when the old servant had left off speaking. "You have behaved with your usual discretion. I shall drive over to Merrybrow to-morrow, and make inquiry. And you may tell Miss Griselda in the morning what I purpose doing; but tell her also that, as a punishment for her rudeness and ill-temper, she must have breakfast in her own room to-morrow, and not see me till I send for her. Had she restrained her temper and explained the matter, all this distress might have been saved." Dorcas did not wait till "to-morrow morning"; she could not bear to think of Griselda's unhappiness. From her mistress's room she went straight to the little girl's, going in very softly, so as not to disturb her should she be sleeping. "Are you awake, missie?" she said gently. Griselda started up. "Yes," she exclaimed. "Is it you, cuckoo? I'm quite awake." "Bless the child," said Dorcas to herself, "how her head does run on Miss Sybilla's cuckoo. It's really wonderful. There's more in such things than some people think." But aloud she only replied-- "It's Dorcas, missie. No fairy, only old Dorcas come to comfort you a bit. Listen, missie. Your auntie is going over to Merrybrow Hall to-morrow to inquire about this little Master Phil from my Lady Lavander, for we think it's at one of her ladyship's farms that he and his nurse are staying, and if she hears that he's a nice-mannered little gentleman, and comes of good parents--why, missie, there's no saying but that you'll get leave to play with him as much as you like." "But not to-morrow, Dorcas," said Griselda. "Aunt Grizzel never goes to Merrybrow till the afternoon. She won't be back in time for me to play with Phil to-morrow." "No, but next day, perhaps," said Dorcas. "Oh, but that won't do," said Griselda, beginning to cry again. "Poor little Phil will be coming up to the wood-path _to-morrow_, and if he doesn't find me, he'll be _so_ unhappy--perhaps he'll never come again if I don't meet him to-morrow." Dorcas saw that the little girl was worn out and excited, and not yet inclined to take a reasonable view of things. "Go to sleep, missie," she said kindly, "and don't think anything more about it till to-morrow. It'll be all right, you'll see." Her patience touched Griselda. "You are very kind, Dorcas," she said. "I don't mean to be cross to _you_; but I can't bear to think of poor little Phil. Perhaps he'll sit down on my mossy stone and cry. Poor little Phil!" But notwithstanding her distress, when Dorcas had left her she did feel her heart a little lighter, and somehow or other before long she fell asleep. When she awoke it seemed to be suddenly, and she had the feeling that something had disturbed her. She lay for a minute or two perfectly still--listening. Yes; there it was--the soft, faint rustle in the air that she knew so well. It seemed as if something was moving away from her. "Cuckoo," she said gently, "is that you?"