“Did you give the note?” asked the little girl, turning and speaking to him in an imperious way.
“Yes, Miss. I met the young gentleman all alone in the avenue, and I gave it him.”
“And what did he say?”
“He only said, ‘All right,’ Miss.”
“Thank you, David,” said Phyllis; “I am very much obliged to you.”
She ran across the yard and into a small fir plantation just beyond, and there she stood leaning over the railing. David could see her, and he smiled to himself.
“She is a spirited little miss,” he thought. “Didn’t Master Ralph show his white teeth just, when he read her note. His ‘All right’ meant all right, or I am much mistook. My word! the little miss will get into trouble if she ain’t careful; but I ain’t the one to split on her.”
So when the pony-trap came round to take Miss Fleet and her small charge to Dartfield, nowhere could Phyllis be found. The whole house was searched, and the servants were questioned, but no one had seen the child.
Miss Fleet, in alarm, gave up her expedition and instituted a more vigorous search, but try as she would, nowhere could she or Nurse get a glimpse of the child. David, who alone knew the direction in which Phyllis had gone, had taken care to absent himself, and no one else had the slightest clue by which her whereabouts could be discovered. Presently Miss Fleet, in great anger, started off to drive to the Rectory.
“This really is intolerable,” she thought. “I shall have to write to the Squire. Oh, of course, the naughty, naughty child has gone to those other wicked children. I shall have to give Mrs Hilchester a piece of my mind.”