Miss Hacket said she had been just feeding them when the G.F.S. girl arrived, and as Mysie came to a halt in delight at the aspect of a young one that had just crept out into public life, the sister was called to the window. She was a great deal younger and more of the present day in style than her sister, and had pensive-looking grey eyes, with a somewhat bored languid manner as she shook hands with the early visitors. The sisters had a little consultation over the note, during which Dolores studied them, and Mysie studied the doves, longing to see the curious process of feeding the young ones. When Miss Hacket turned back to her with the acceptance of the invitation, she thought she might wait just to help Miss Hacket to put in the corn and the sop. Meantime Miss Constance talked to Dolores. ‘Did you arrive yesterday?’ ‘No, the day before.’ ‘Ah! it must be a great change to you.’ ‘Indeed it is.’ ‘This must be the dullest place in England, I think,’ said Miss Constance. ‘No variety, no advantages of any kind! And have not you lived in London?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘That is my ambition! I once spent six weeks in London, and it was an absolute revelation--the opening of another world. And I understand that Mr. Maurice Mohun is such a clever man, and that you saw a great deal of his friends.’ ‘I used,’ said Dolores, thinking of those days of her mother when she was the pet and plaything of the guests, incited to say clever and pert things, which then were passed round and embellished till she neither knew them nor comprehended them. ‘That is what I pine for!’ exclaimed Miss Constance. ‘Nobody here has any ideas. You can’t conceive how borne and prejudiced every one her who is used to something better! Don’t you love art needlework?’ ‘Maude Sefton has been working Goosey Goosey Gander on a toilet-cover.’ ‘Oh! how sweet! We never get any new patterns here! Do come in and see, I don’t know which to take; I brought three beginnings home to choose from, and I am quite undecided.’ ‘Mrs. Sefton draws her own patterns,’ said Dolores. ‘Something she gets ideas from Lorenzo Dellman--he’s an artist, you know, and a regular aesthete! He made her do a dado all sunflowers last year, but they are a little gone out now, and are very staring besides, and I think she will have some nymphs dancing among almond-trees in blue vases instead, as soon as she has designed it.’ ‘Isn’t that lovely! Oh! what would I not give for such opportunities? Do let me have your opinion.’ So Dolores went in with her, and looked at three patterns, one of tall daisies; another of odd-looking doves, one on each side of a red Etruscan vase, where the water must have been as much out of their reach as that in the pitcher was beyond the crow’s; and a third, of Little Bo Peep. Having given her opinion in favour of Bo Peep, she was taken upstairs to inspect the young lady’s store of crewels, and choose the colours.