Without speaking, Phil doffed his cap, and stood awkwardly by, while Millie eagerly answered Miss Crawford's questions. "Will you come to tea with me on Monday afternoon?" said that young lady to Millie. "I shall expect you at four o'clock, and you and I will take tea together on the lawn. You will like that, Millie?" The child's eyes sparkled. "Could you not manage to call for your sister about eight," continued Miss Crawford turning to Phil, "and see her safely home?" He mumbled a reply which Miss Crawford chose to consider an assent. Phil was always shy with strangers, and especially so when they were ladies. Then she wished the brother and sister good-bye, and as she walked away Phil heard her say to her companion, "That little girl shall be among our first batch, Sydney." "I wonder what she means," thought Phil to himself. But he said nothing to Millie, who trotted along chatting merrily till they reached their home in Swift Street. [Illustration] [Illustration: She received her guest with a kind word of welcome.] [Illustration] CHAPTER IV. MILLIE GOES OUT TO TEA. THE following Monday was indeed a red-letter day in Millie Guntry's calendar. She put on her best dress, which, in spite of the care she had taken, was beginning to look shabby, and the pretty lace collar and cuffs that her mother had made for her. Nora Dickson called out when she met Millie on the stairs that she looked "quite a lady." Nora said it satirically; but it was the truth nevertheless. Millie had some little difficulty in finding Baverstock House, and it was with a trembling hand—for she felt extremely nervous—that she pulled the bell at the side of the high green gate. But when the gate was opened, she thought at first she was in fairyland! Who would have expected to see so green a spot in such a crowded, noisy neighbourhood? The house was a large old-fashioned building, with ivy and many kinds of creepers climbing up its walls, and around the pillars of the doorway. In the front of the house stretched a velvety lawn, and the high wall that surrounded it was thickly covered with more ivy and creepers. In the centre of the garden a pretty fountain threw up its silvery spray in the sunshine. It made Millie feel cool even to look at it. In one corner of the lawn there grew a large mulberry tree, and there, under its shade, sat Miss Crawford in a low basket-chair at needlework. She received her guest with a kind word of welcome, and soon the little girl was seated by her friend and chatting away at her ease. Presently tea was brought out. Millie had not felt so hungry for months as she did at the sight of the delicate bread and butter, delicious strawberries, and rich light sponge cake. "O!" sighed Millie to herself. "If Phil were but here!"