"Well, I never!" murmured Mrs. Granger. Her exclamation was drowned, however, in the babble of youthful sound let loose upon the "best people of the County" by the opening of the door. "Miss Gordon is going in for the pretty charity thing, is she?"
All might have gone well even then—for Harkness had a stern eye on everyone of Robin's small guests—had not little Susy seen her beloved "big girl" slip through the group at the big glass doors. Susy was the youngest of the children there; she did not go to school regularly enough to feel at home with the others, she had refused to slide, and, at the table had not really begun to enjoy herself until Robin had sat down next to her, put her arm around her and coaxed her to eat the food on the plate before her. The food had turned out to be very good and Susy had crammed it down with her fingers, regardless of fork or spoon. Now her "big girl" had slipped away, she was alone, that man at the end was staring at her, panic seized her, a mad longing to escape, anywhere—preferably back to the shelter of the "big girl's" friendly arm. She slid down from her seat, her eyes wildly sweeping the room; Harkness, like an ogre, guarded one end of the table, Williams' bulk stood between her and the outer door; there was only the one way, through the glass doors. Head down, she ran swiftly the length of the conservatory and bolted into the little group of people watching from the dining room door. Someone big blocked her way. With frightened hands she pushed at her.
"Want Granny! Want Granny! Get 'way! Uh-h-h!"
"The dreadful little thing!" someone said.
Robin, hearing the shrill cry, rushed to the rescue, and, kneeling, gathered poor weeping Susy into a close embrace. Over the child's tousled head she smiled nervously at her staring guests.
"Poor little thing, she's shy!" Then, feeling Susy quivering in her clasp, she whispered something magical in her ears. It was only: "Robin will keep tight hold of your hand, Susy-girl, and you needn't be a bit frightened and by and by, if you're quiet, we'll fill a bag of goodies for your brother and Granny." But it soothed Susy at once, and, clinging to Robin's hand, she stared at the guests from the shelter of Robin's skirts.
There was a little stir among the "best people of the County"—a renewal of the chatter, high-pitched, pleasant nothings, and side remarks, in careful undertones.
"Certainly, not a bit like a Forsyth."
"I rather think Madame doesn't know what is going on here."
"Fancy entertaining these little persons and Mrs. Granger with the same spoon, so to speak."