“He does not say a word about coming back, Phyllis. Oh yes, though; he says in his postscript that we must expect him when we see him.”
“Then he will not be back to-morrow night?”
“Certainly not, dear. He is going to Scotland.”
Phyllis’s face turned very white. Miss Fleet looked full at her.
“My dear,” she said, “you have pleased me much by your conduct yesterday, and I trust until your father’s return you will be equally good; then I shall have a delightful report to render him.”
Phyllis made no remark. She would keep her word, certainly, as far as it went, but to-morrow she fully meant to see the children of the Rectory. This night would end the second day of her promise; she would consider herself free the next morning. With all her faults she was a very honest child. She looked full at Miss Fleet now.
“I won’t deceive you,” she said. “I made you a promise, and I will keep it; but, please, you can understand that my promise ends to-night. I mean that when this time to-morrow arrives, I won’t have made you any promise with regard to being good or bad.”
As Phyllis uttered these words the governess’s eyes rested on that portion of the Squire’s letter which expressed satisfaction at his little girl’s having companions to play with.
“If he knew,” thought Miss Fleet, “what thoroughly naughty children they are, he would certainly approve of my determination not to allow Phyllis to have anything to do with them. Yes, I must be guided by my own common-sense in the matter.”
Miss Fleet therefore now looked full up at the little girl, and said slowly and gently: