"I wish she was living now," sighed Felicia.
"Ah, yes! Everyone misses her, and Mr. Guy most of all, I expect. You see, Mrs. Pring has her husband and children and all the parish to look after, so to speak, and master has interests out-of-doors, but it's different with Mr. Guy."
"Who is Mrs. Pring?" asked Felicia.
"Your aunt who married the Vicar," Ann replied, looking more and more surprised as she discovered the extent of the little girl's ignorance about her relations; "she has two daughters not much older than yourself. Why, you're richer in relations than you thought."
"I am, indeed. Do tell me more about them."
Ann good-naturedly complied, and Felicia listened to all she had to say, which was in praise of the family at the Vicarage, with great attention. How she hoped she would be friends with her cousins!
When she had finished her breakfast and Ann had taken away the tray, she arose and dressed. The housemaid had informed her that the master of the house had gone to Bristol and would not be at home till the evening. She wondered how she would be expected to pass the day. After having said her prayers she sat down and read a chapter from the Bible which she found on a table by the bedside, and then stood looking dreamily out of the window, from which, beyond the flower-garden stretching before the house, she caught the glimmer of water between a group of trees, and was immediately reminded of that glimpse of the river from the window of the attic she still thought of as home. What wonder that the tears overflowed and streamed down her thin, pale cheeks, and that her breast heaved with sobs. She had only to shut her eyes and she could picture her mother's dark head bent over the sewing machine; and in imagination she could still hear the "whirr-whirr-whirr" which had so terribly tried her mother's nerves. But a touch on her arm interrupted her reverie, and she looked up with a start into the face of Mrs. Price.
"How do you feel this morning?" asked Mrs. Price kindly, observing the little girl's sorrowful countenance with much concern.
"I am very well, thank you," Felicia responded hastily. "I—I have been thinking of my mother, that is why I have been crying. I—I miss her so."
"Naturally, my dear. But, come, dry your eyes, for your Uncle Guy wants to see you. He is a sad invalid, and we always try to humour his wishes. You know he is—deformed."