'Give us a 'napeny,' says Mikey. 'Father's got no work, mother was buried on Toosdy! We's so 'ungry.'
'Why, Betty,' said Dolly, stopping short, and greatly shocked, 'is this true?'
'Ess,' says little Betty, grinning, and running back through the wicket.
'What did you have for dinner yesterday?' says Dolly, incredulous, and pursuing Betty towards the summer-house.
'Please, Miss, mother give us some bread-and-drippin',' says Mikey, with a caper. 'I mean father did. We's so....'
'You mean that you have been telling me a wicked story,' interrupted Dolly. 'I am very angry, Mikey. I never forgive deception. I shall give you no apples—nothing. I....' She stopped short; her voice suddenly faltered. She stood quite still watching two people, who came advancing down the avenue that led to the little door, arm-in-arm, and so absorbed in each other, that for a minute they did not see that she was standing in the way. It was a chance. If it had not happened then, it would have happened at some other time and place.
Rhoda had waited until the service was over, and in so doing she had come upon the last person whom she wished to see just then. There stood Dolly by the summer-house, with a pale face, confronting her, with the little ragged crew about her knees. Mikey, looking up, thought that for once 'Miss Vamper' was in the tantrums.
Rhoda started back instinctively, meeting two blank wondering eyes, and would have pulled George away, but it was too late.
'Nonsense,' said George; and he came forward, and then they all were quite silent for a minute, George a little in advance, Rhoda lingering still.
'What does this mean?' said Dolly, coldly, speaking at last.