business for me, that I should hardly have time to speak to you. You need not be uneasy for me, dear one, there is always relief in having a great deal to do, and I shall know you are near, to come if I want you. There’s a great deal in that knowledge, Phœbe.’
‘If I were of any use—’
‘Yes, Phœbe, this visit has made you my friend instead of my playfellow.’
Phœbe’s deepening colour showed her intense gratification. ‘And there are the Sundays,’ added Honor. ‘I trust Miss Fennimore will let you come to luncheon, and to the second service with me.’
‘I will try very hard!’
For Phœbe could not help feeling like the canary, who sees his owner’s hand held out to catch him after his flight, or the pony who marks his groom at the gate of the paddock. Cage and rein were not grievous, but liberty was over, and free-will began to sink into submission, as the chimneys of home came nearer, even though the anticipation of her sister’s happiness grew more and more on her, and compensated for all.
Shrieks of ecstasy greeted her; she was held as fast as though her sisters feared to lose her again, and Miss Fennimore showed absolute warmth of welcome. Foreign tongues were dispensed with, and it was a festival evening of chatter, and display of purchases, presents, and commissions. The evidences of Phœbe’s industry were approved. Her abstracts of her reading, her notes of museums and exhibitions, her drawing, needlework, and new pieces of music, exceeded Miss Fennimore’s hopes, and appalled her sisters.
‘You did all that,’ cried Bertha, profiting by Miss Fennimore’s absence; ‘I hope to goodness she won’t make it a precedent.’
‘Wasn’t it very tiresome?’ asked Maria.
‘Sometimes; but it made me comfortable, as if I had a backbone for my day.’