Miss Mervyn shook her head rather sadly. “Don’t promise too much,” she said, as she left the room.
She had a difficult task before her, but she was so sincerely anxious to help Philippa, that she was at last able to put the matter before Mrs Trevor in a way which overcame her objections.
To begin with, it was a really good thing for Philippa to take an interest in something outside herself. Already, since she had this plan in her mind, she was more cheerful and contented. Then the little girl she wished to see was not ill of any complaint which Philippa could possibly catch, but had only strained her back. Then it would be quite possible to ascertain whether the Tuvvys were decent people, and their cottage fit for Philippa to enter. Miss Mervyn herself would go first and observe everything carefully. And finally, the child had so set her heart on making this visit, that it would be unwise to oppose it unless absolutely necessary. At length, therefore, she returned to the schoolroom, where she found Philippa curled up disconsolately in the depths of an armchair.
“Well,” she exclaimed, springing up, “may I go?” Then as she saw Miss Mervyn smile, she flung her arms suddenly round her neck. “You’re tremendously kind,” she said; “and now you’ll see how good I’ll be always, and always, and always.”
Miss Mervyn smiled still more. “That’s a very long time, my dear Philippa,” she said; “but at any rate you know now what it is to feel grateful, don’t you? But you haven’t thanked your mother yet. Run down-stairs and tell her how pleased you are.”
Philippa’s first impulse was, as usual, to refuse to do what she was told, but this evening she felt quite a new wish to please Miss Mervyn, and obeyed silently.