One of the Grey Sisters appeared at Greylands' Rest by-and-by, bringing up little Marie Guise. It was Sister Ruth. Mrs. Castlemaine had graciously invited the child to take tea with her mother. But Mrs. Castlemaine was one who rarely did a kindness without some inward motive--generally a selfish one. Marie was beginning to speak a little English now; but never willingly; never when her French could be by any possibility understood. To her mother she invariably spoke in French; and Mrs. Castlemaine had made the private discovery that, to hear the child and her mother speak together, might improve Flora's accent. So Madame Guise was quite at liberty to have Maxie up to tea as often as she liked. "Do you remember your papa, dear?" asked Mrs. Castlemaine in English, as they sat round the tea-table; Mr. Castlemaine having gone to dine at the Dolphin. "Sais pas, responded Marie shyly, hanging her head at the question. "Do you like England better than France, Marie?" went on Mrs. Castlemaine. "Sais pas," repeated the child unwillingly, as if she meant to cry. "How is the little burnt girl? Better?" "Sais pas, moi." Evidently it was profitless work, the examining of Miss Marie Guise. Ethel laughed, and began talking to her in French. At best, she was but a timid little thing. Madame Guise started at the dusk hour to take her home; proceeding to the front, open way, down the wide avenue and the high road. At the door of the Dolphin stood Mrs. Bent, a large cooking apron tied round her waist. She was wiping a cut-glass jug with a soft cloth, and apparently had stepped to the door while giving some directions to Ned, the man: who stood ready to run off somewhere without his hat. "Mind, Ned; the very best mocha. And unless it is the best, don't bring it. I'd sooner use what I've got in the house." Ned started off across the road in the direction of the beach: no doubt to Pike, the grocer's. Mrs. Bent was whisking in again, when she caught sight of Madame Guise and the little Marie. "You are busy this evening," said Madame. "We've got a dinner on," replied Mrs. Bent stooping to kiss Marie, of whom she had grown very fond during the child's sojourn and illness at the inn. "And I had no notice of it till midday--which of course makes one all the busier. I like to get things forward the day beforehand, and not leave 'em to the last minute: but if you don't know of it you can't do that." "A dinner?--Yes, I think I heard it said at home that Mr. Castlemaine was dining at the Dolphin." "He is here, for one. There are five of them altogether. Captain Scott--some grand man he is, they say, who goes about to look up the coastguard in places; and Superintendent Nettleby; and Mr. Blackett of the Grange. Lawyer Knivett of Stilborough makes the fifth, a friend of Captain Scott's. And I must run in, ma'am, for I'm wanted ten ways at once this evening."