"Then I don't suppose she's very pretty," observed Doris meditatively. "Well, I don't envy her if she is going to live at the Priory, for I expect grandfather will be very strict with her, and then—there's Uncle Guy! I wonder how he will like having her there?"
"Grandfather said he had not told Uncle Guy about her yet, but he will, to-morrow, before he goes to Bristol. Uncle Guy has been in one of his worst moods to-day, and has not left his own rooms."
At that moment the schoolroom door opened, and the children's mother came in. She was a tall, fair, handsome woman, and the expression of her face was frank and attractive.
"Supper is ready, my dears," she remarked, "and your father is waiting."
"Has grandfather gone?" Molly inquired.
"Yes. I wanted him to stay, but he would not. He said he had just dined but I doubt if he had eaten much. I could see he was very excited."
The little girls followed their mother downstairs into the dining-room, where their father was standing by the open window looking out into the moonlit garden. He immediately joined his wife and children at the supper table; and as soon as the parlour-maid had left the room, the conversation naturally turned to the newcomer at the Priory.
"I thought father was not unfavourably impressed with her," said Mrs. Pring, glancing anxiously at her husband.
"I thought the same," he agreed. "It is a pity he never had an interview with the child's mother," he proceeded, "things might have been so different if they had met face to face. I could never blame her for keeping her baby girl."
"Nor I. In fact, I always had a better opinion of her on that account," admitted Mrs. Pring. "I could not think father right in wanting her to give up the child; but, of course, his idea was that little Felicia would be better away from her mother's influence. I believe he meant to do right though he appeared harsh, he never dreamt the mother would prove so stubborn."