“I certainly do,” said Miss Mervyn, with earnest conviction.
Every one at Haughton Park thought so too, for Philippa had been so troublesome lately, that she had made the whole household uncomfortable as well as herself. “The dear child must be ill,” Mrs Trevor said, and sent for Dr Smith.
“The old story, my dear madam,” he said; “sensitive nerves. I should advise sending your daughter to the sea-side with some young companions. It is important that the system should be braced, and the mind gently amused.”
On consideration, Mrs Trevor did not see how she could manage to supply Philippa with sea-air as well as young companions, but it occurred to her that the air of Fieldside might do as well, and to this Miss Mervyn had heartily agreed. So a letter was at once written to Miss Chester, and the subject gently broken to Philippa, who, greatly to every one’s surprise and relief, made no difficulty whatever.
“I shall take the kitten with me,” she said, rather defiantly, and nothing would have pleased Mrs Trevor better, for Philippa’s kitten had become a plague and a worry to every one from morning till night. There were endless complaints about it. It was a thief, it had a bad temper, it scratched the satin chairs in the drawing-room, it climbed up the curtains, it was always in the way. It had broken a whole trayful of wine-glasses. Scarcely a day passed without some fresh piece of mischief. Perhaps the poor kitten could hardly be blamed for all this, for it would have been difficult for a wiser thing than a kitten to understand how to behave under such circumstances. Philippa would pet and spoil it one day, and scold it the next, so that it never quite knew when it was doing right or wrong. There was no doubt, however, that since its arrival there was less peace and quietness than ever at Haughton Park.
Meanwhile at Fieldside the idea of Philippa’s visit was received with something like dismay. She had never stayed more than one day before, and there was a good deal of doubt in the children’s minds as to whether she would make herself agreeable. Dennis in particular felt this strongly.
“Will Philippa stay two days or three days, Aunt Katharine?” he asked when he heard the news. “When Aunt Trevor says two or three days, does she count the one she comes and the one she goes, because that only leaves one clear day?”
“Oh, I daresay if you’re happy together,” answered Miss Chester, “her mother will like her to stay longer than that.”
It was breakfast time, and she was reading a pile of letters which had just arrived, so that she did not pay much attention to the children. Dennis turned to Maisie and said softly: “I think one clear day’s quite long enough; don’t you?”
Maisie took some thoughtful spoonfuls of porridge before she answered.