“Grandmamma should be thanked; she asked me to bring a child or two, to be with Mamma when I go down to Portsmouth. We had thought of Susan; but I think Betty deserves some amends for what she has undergone.” “Oh yes, Papa! thank you!” cried Susan, Sam, and David, from their hearts; John and Annie because the others did so. “Then you won’t kick her out if she shares your berth, Sue?” “Oh, I am so glad, Papa! It is so nice to go together.” “Then, Miss Fosbrook, will you be kind enough to rig them out? I must drive into Southminster at ten o’clock; and if you would be so good as to see them smartened up for London there, I should be much obliged to you.” The mere drive to the country town was a great event in itself, even without the almost incredible wonder that it was to lead to; and the delights of which Ida and Miss Fosbrook had told them in London went so wildly careering through the little girls’ brains, that they hardly knew what they said or did, as they danced about the house, and ran up-stairs to get ready, long before ten o’clock. Mr. Carey had been informed that his pupils would not come to him during the few days of their father’s stay; and Sam begged to ride in on his pony by the side of the carriage; but he was desired to fetch his books, and call Henry, as his uncle wished to give them both an examination. Was this the beginning of captivity to Uncle John? David and Johnnie were quite angry. They considered it highly proper that Hal should be shut up with Uncle John, but they thought it very hard that Sam should be so used too; and Sam himself looked very round-backed, reluctant, and miserable, partly at the task, partly at being deprived of the sight of his father for several hours of one of those few precious days. Miss Fosbrook wished Susan to have sat on the front seat of the old phaeton with her father; but he would not consent to this, and putting the two little girls together behind, handed the governess to the place of honour beside him, where she felt rather shy, in spite of his bright easy manner. “I am afraid,” he said, after having flourished his whip merrily at Johnnie, Annie, and Davie, who were holding open the iron gate, “that you have had a tough job with those youngsters! We never meant you to have been left so long to their mercy.” “I know—I know; I only wish I could have done better.” “You have done wonders. My brother hardly knows where he is—never saw those children so mannerly.” Miss Fosbrook could not show how delighted she was. “I could hardly have ventured on taking those two girls to town unless you had broken them in a little. I would say nothing last night till I had watched Susan; for my mother is particular, and if my wife was to be always worrying herself about their manners, they had better be at home.” “Indeed, I think you may quite trust to their behaving well. Those two and Sam are so thoroughly trustworthy, that I had no real difficulty till this unhappy business.”