She was doing that on the journey back to Bath from Twynham Park. The fact that she received only mechanical responses from Miss Wychwood did not offend her, or cause her to abate her cheerful chatter. Rather she increased it, for she could see that her dear Miss Wychwood was a trifle in the dumps, and considered it to be her duty to divert her mind. No doubt she was sad to be leaving Twynham: Miss Farlow could well understand that, for she was feeling rather sad herself: it had been such an agreeable week!

“So very kind as Lady Wychwood is!” she said brightly. “I declare it makes one sorry to be going away, not but what home is best, isn’t it? We must look forward now to Easter, when we shall have them all to stay in Camden Place. We shan’t know how to make enough of those sweet children, shall we, Annis?”

“I don’t think I shall find it difficult,” said Annis, with a faint smile. “And I fancy Jurby won’t either!” she added, twinkling across at her dresser, who was sitting on the forward seat, holding her mistress’s jewel-box on her angular knees. “Little Tom’s last encounter with Jurby was a very near-run thing, I promise you, Maria! Indeed, I am persuaded that had I not chanced to come into the room at that moment she’d have spanked him—as well he deserved! Wouldn’t you, Jurby?”

Her dresser replied austerely: “Tempted I may have been, Miss Annis, but the Lord gave me strength to resist the promptings of the Evil One.”

“Oh, no, was it the Lord who gave you that strength?” said Annis, quizzing her. “I had thought it was my intervention that saved him!”

“Poor little fellow!” said Miss Farlow charitably. “So high-spirited! Such quaint things as he says! I’m sure I never saw such a forward child. Your sweet little goddaughter, too, Annis!”