The drive back to the Priory was even pleasanter than the one to T— had been, for it was much cooler now. They reached home in good time, and, having thanked her grandfather for the pleasure he had given her, Felicia ran upstairs, and sought her uncle to tell him what an enjoyable afternoon she had spent. But he was not to be found in his sitting-room, and Ann White, whom Felicia met in the corridor, informed her that Mr. Guy had gone downstairs.
"Gone downstairs!" echoed Felicia. "Oh, I am glad! Then he means to dine with grandfather to-night?"
"I believe so, miss."
The little girl went to her own room to change her dusty frock for another. Her scanty wardrobe had been replenished by Mrs. Price, according to her grandfather's orders, and she had no lack of clothes now. A feeling of bewilderment crept over her sometimes when she compared her present life to that she had lived with her mother in their attic home. Oh, if only she had her dear mother with her to share the comforts of the Priory, how contented she would be! The one drop of bitterness which spoilt her cup of happiness was the remembrance that her mother had suffered privations, and had died in poverty.
By-and-by Mrs. Price knocked at the door, and on being told to come in, entered, with a beaming countenance.
"Your grandfather desires you to dine with him to-night, miss," she said; "he sent me to tell you so. Your aunt and the Vicar are coming, you know."
"Oh!" cried Felicia nervously, "I have never dined of an evening before; I do hope I shall do nothing out of the way. I suppose Uncle Guy will be there?"
"Yes. The master was so pleased to find him downstairs. Come, miss, you mustn't dawdle, or you'll be late, for it's nearly seven o'clock, and—there, I hear your aunt's voice in the hall. Let me help you. I'll do your hair, shall I?"
Ten minutes later Felicia walked slowly downstairs and entered the drawing-room. It was a large room, facing the west, and was flooded with sunshine on this August evening, for the master of the house loved light and air, and kept the blinds pulled up. He stood by one of the open windows in conversation with his daughter, and he glanced towards Felicia with a smile as she came into the room.
"I thought you might as well dine with us to-night, child, as take your supper alone," he remarked kindly. "The drive has given her quite a colour, hasn't it, Mary?" he questioned, turning to his daughter.