"Dan," said Norah suddenly, when they had found quite a lot of chestnuts and were beginning to be rather tired of looking for them, "shall we go and see if the gap in the fence is still there? It's quite early still, and it's not so very far away."
"Oh, yes," said Dan. "It's such a long time since we've been there. Do you think, if it's not filled up, we might go in just for a minute?"
Norah shook here head.
"No, I don't think we can," she said. "You know father said we had been trespassing when we went there before, and nobody lived there then, so I suppose it would be more trespassing still if we went now; that's why we've never been to look at it all this time, because I knew if we did we should want to go in."
Dan sighed.
"And however much we want, this afternoon, we mustn't go in," he said. "I almost wish the people hadn't come to the Grange, Norah; it used to be so nice when we used to go and sit on our own little bank there, and nobody else ever came."
"But we couldn't go now, even if it was empty," said Norah, "because father said—— Oh, Dan!" she exclaimed, breaking off suddenly, "the gap is still there! Do you think I might peep through?"
"Yes," said Dan. "That's not trespassing. People often stop and look in at our gate, and we don't mind a bit. Do go and look in, Norah; you can leave me here in the chair, and if it looks very nice you must come and help me down the bank just to peep through once more."
Norah crept through the bushes cautiously, and popped her head in at the gap. Then she gave a little gasp of surprise.
There on Norah's own particular seat—a mossy stone shaped very like a stumpy armchair—sat the foreign little girl reading a book.