The windows were dark; it
was a sign that Evening Service was just over. The children turned
in at the gate, just as Armyn overtook them. He lifted Kate off her
pony. She could not have stood, but she could run, and she flew to
the drawing-room. No one was there; perhaps she was glad. She knew
the cousins would be dressing for tea, and in another moment she had
torn open Sylvia's door.
Sylvia, who was brushing her hair, turned round. She stared--as if
she had seen a ghost. Then the two children held out their arms, and
rushed together with a wild scream that echoed through the house, and
brought Mary flying out of her room to see who was hurt! and to find,
rolling on her sister's bed, a thing that seemed to have two bodies
and two faces glued together, four legs, and all its arms and hands
wound round and round.
"Sylvia! What is it? Who is it? What is she doing to you?" began
Mary; but before the words were out of her mouth, the thing had flown
at her neck, and pulled her down too; and the grasp and the clinging
and the kisses told her long before she had room or eyes or voice to
know the creature by. A sort of sobbing out of each name between
them was all that was heard at first.
At last, just as Mary was beginning to say, "My own own Katie! how
did you come--" Mr. Wardour's voice on the stairs called "Mary!"
"Have you seen him, my dear?"
"No;" but Kate was afraid now she had heard his voice, for it was
grave.
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