Breakfast is generally a quiet meal at No. 4 Lancaster Terrace, for Mr. Merivale leaves the house at half-past nine punctually every morning in order to be at the bank before it is opened to the public.
There is little or no conversation therefore this morning, the mother being absent, and the six girls and boys take their breakfast in almost complete silence, speaking, if at all, in low subdued voices which will not disturb their father over his newspapers and letters.
Presently he puts these aside, however, and as he passes his cup up to be refilled by Honor says, "Didn't I hear mother say Miss Denison was to return to-day?"
"Yes, father," answers Doris. "Mother heard from her yesterday, and she is to arrive by the 12.45 train."
"O, I wonder if mother will let us meet her," says Honor, looking up.
"Well, why not ask her?" says Mr. Merivale, rising from the table. "I don't suppose she will be going out herself this morning, so you might take the carriage in that case."
"O, that would be jolly!" cries Doris, jumping up and clapping her hands; "and I tell you what, Honor, we'll try and get mother to let us have it all the morning, then we shall get through no end of business. Father will ask her—won't you, dear?"
"Not I, indeed; go and ask her yourself. Besides, it is time I was off—there will be no one to open the safe, and then what will they do, eh?" and so saying Mr. Merivale bustles into the hall, where William is standing waiting to help his master into his overcoat, and snatching the Times from Honor's hand, who, with Doris and Molly in her wake, has pursued him out on to the steps, he makes his escape into the brougham which is waiting at the door.
Doris and Honor hold a consultation on their way back to the dining-room as to the pros and cons of their getting permission to use the carriage, and on Doris promising to be spokeswoman, they both run up to their mother's room.
"Mother, we want the carriage, Honor and I, to do our shopping, you know. And father says if we are out we may as well take it on to the station and meet Miss Denny; so we can, can't we, mother?" And Doris takes up one of the slender white hands lying upon the coverlet, and softly pats and strokes it between her own.