And Miss Storey shook an unbelieving head.
"Auntie, I don't feel as if I could lie down quiet this afternoon," pleaded Hecla, as they rose from table. "I'm all over kicks and jumpiness all through every single bit of me. I do want to go out, and have a run. Please—mayn't I?"
The aunts spoke together in undertones; and Miss Anne turned to Hecla.
"Just for once we will let you off the lying down," she said. "You must be very good, and not ask it again. I am going to speak to Mr. Deane, and you may come with me."
Hecla flung herself on Aunt Anne, in rapturous gratitude.
Alas, for Miss Anne's beautiful frills! But she liked to be hugged, even though she gently tried to shelter the frills from being crushed.
"That will do, dear. Now we must get our hats."
"And perhaps I shall find Chris. I do want to tell Chris; and Uncle John too."
"Uncle John" was Mr. Deane, the Vicar of Nortonbury. He was not really Hecla's uncle, but since Chris, his nephew, always called him so, Hecla had fallen into the same way. Mr. Deane liked her to do it. He was very fond of children, and all children loved him.
During many years he had worked tremendously hard in a big poor London parish, till he became very ill, and was ordered to go into the country, to save his life. He was here still, three years after, always hoping to be some day strong enough to go back to his beloved London work; but at present he was not nearly so. He was not married, and he had one orphan nephew living with him, just as the Misses Storey had one little orphan niece.