“But which gown is it?—tell me that!” cried Anania, in an agony of disappointed curiosity.
“It’s a crimson woollen one. Good morrow.”
“What! never that lovely robe she had on yesterday? Saints bless us all!” was the last scream that reached them from Anania.
Stephen laughed merrily as Derette came up with him.
“We have got clear of the dragon this time,” said he.
A few minutes brought them to the Walnut Tree.
“Haimet—Oh, it’s Stephen!” cried Isel in a tone of sore distress, as soon as he appeared at the door. “Do, for mercy’s sake—I’m just at my wits’ end to think whatever—Oh, there she is!”
“Yes, Mother, I’m here,” said Derette demurely.
“Yes, she’s here, and no harm done, but good, I reckon,” added Stephen. “Still, I think it might be as well to look after her a bit, Aunt Isel. If she were to take it into her head to go to London to see the Lady Queen, perhaps you mightn’t fancy it exactly.”
“What has she been doing?” asked Isel in consternation.