"Please don't say any more," replied Elsa, earnestly; "we were very glad to do what we could to help your mother."
And as the two girls hastened off, the words the grateful old woman had repeated reverently, as they bade her "good-bye," rang in Elsa's ears like a benediction: "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these ... ye have done it unto ME."
But Amethyst's thoughts were in quite another direction.
"It must be awfully late, Elsa," she said, as they hurried along the quiet road which skirted the copse, and which would bring them eventually to West Lane, where they had arranged to meet the others. "We were ages getting there."
"Yes, I suppose it is," replied Elsa, coming back to the present moment with a start; "why, now I remember it, the grandfather's clock in Mrs. Hodges' room was nearly three o'clock."
"Good gracious!" cried Amethyst. "I never noticed it; let's hope it was fast. But, anyhow, we shall have a business to reach the white gate in time;" and they quickened their footsteps into a run.
At length the trysting place was reached, and they were glad to find that they were the first on the spot.
"Now we can have a rest and get back our breath," said Amethyst, as they perched themselves on the white gate, and fanned their flushed faces with their straw hats. "Oh, I say, how hot and tired I am!"
"I do wish we knew what the time was," said Elsa, who looked rather worried.
"Yes, it's a great bother not having a watch, but I'm to have one next Christmas, so there's not very much longer to wait;" and Amethyst heaved a little sigh of satisfaction. Then she jumped off the gate and ran into the road, as she heard footsteps approaching, expecting it to be the other two girls, but it was only a nurse pushing a baby in a mail cart.