"I believe I know why we enjoy ourselves better in the country," said Charity thoughtfully. "Grownup people are kinder to us here. They have time to talk to us, and they have no time in London. They are always so busy there, and in such a rush!"
Hope nodded.
"Yes, when Aunt Alice's friends came to see her they always said, 'I've no time to stay, I don't know how to get through!' Why do people rush about so in London?"
"They always shop so much," said Charity; "and there are no shops here; and then I suppose the crowds of people make a difference, they have so many friends to see."
"Well," said Faith, "we have friends here. I have Timothy, and Charlie, and Sir George and Lady Melville, and the Pirate, that's five, and perhaps we may have more."
"Timothy doesn't count," said Charity scornfully; "and the Pirate is almost a stranger. We may never see him again."
"He is going to have us to tea," said Faith eagerly.
But Charity tossed her head unbelievingly.
"He has forgotten all about it," she said.
Faith knew better, and three days after, as they were doing their lessons in the tiny best parlour which had been turned into their schoolroom, they saw through the window, the Pirate ride up to the gate on a big brown horse. Aunt Alice went out to speak to him, and she had quite a long conversation at the gate.