The small Carsons were so happily employed with the dolls' house that there was not the slightest need for Sylvia to neglect her other visitors on their behalf. Making them the excuse, however, she allowed Effie and May to grow interested in their game, then, creeping quietly out of the room, she fled downstairs to the study, where she had left _Ivanhoe_ in the big armchair, and, returning with it to the schoolroom, she settled herself in the window seat, and was soon so absorbed in the storming of Torquilstone Castle that she forgot the very existence of her companions. Now, as fate would have it, the rain cleared up sufficiently for Aunt Louisa to come about five o'clock and pay a call upon Mrs. Lindsay. If she had not arrived on that particular day, and at that particular hour, it is quite probable that the events recorded in this story might never have happened at all. Sylvia was not sure whether she altogether liked Aunt Louisa, who, though kind on the whole, and liberal in the matter of birthday and Christmas presents, had a very keen pair of eyes that seemed to notice directly when people were selfish, or conceited, or trying to show off, and saw through excuses and humbug in a moment. She considered Sylvia spoilt, and did not hesitate to say so; but, on the other hand, she proved so good-natured when her niece spent a day at Laurel Bank, and treated her as such a sensible, almost grown-up person, that Sylvia invariably enjoyed herself, and looked forward to going again. It was about half-past five when Mrs. Lindsay and Aunt Louisa, having finished their chat in the drawing-room, walked upstairs to take a peep into the schoolroom and see how the children were getting on. They found Bab and Daisy seated on the floor, much occupied in giving the dolls' house babies their evening baths, while Effie and May were playing bagatelle by themselves with a good deal of noise and shouting. "And where is Sylvia?" asked Aunt Louisa, looking round in some astonishment for the absent hostess. "She's there," said Effie, pointing to the window seat. "She doesn't care about playing. Go on, May, it's your turn." Mrs. Lindsay walked across to the window, and, drawing aside the curtains, disclosed Sylvia, squatting on her heels like a Turk, in the corner of the seat, entirely taken up with the adventures of the black knight and his outlawed companions. Her mother pulled the book from her hand. "Sylvia!" she exclaimed. "Don't you know it is extremely rude of you to sit reading and leave your guests to amuse themselves? Get up this minute!" Sylvia obeyed with a very red face. She had never expected to be caught like this. "They were quite happy without----" she began, but meeting Aunt Louisa's eye she wisely left the sentence unfinished. "I'm sure they would enjoy some game you could all play together," said Mrs. Lindsay. "If we push the table aside there will be plenty of room for Blind Man's Buff."