Priscilla had always felt drawn to Miss Potts, the quiet, lonely woman who lived in a world of toys now, yet looked as though she had never been a child or played with any; and ever since Miss Potts had told her she was alone in the world, Priscilla had had quite a motherly feeling for her. She felt quite excited and pleased at the prospect of her visitor.
She was so pleased, that she did not know how to wait until her mother came back with the answer to her message; and then she wished, oh so much, that she had asked if Miss Potts should be invited to tea with her. Never mind, she decided, she would ask mother that when she came back with her news. This thought comforted and soothed her so much that she was able to lie still more contentedly, and wait, and while she was waiting, her thoughts flew to Loveday. She tried to picture what she would be doing at that moment. Loveday was not, of course, able to write much, for she was very young, and she had only just begun to write real letters; but Bessie had written a good deal about her and Aaron, and the fun they had; and mother had told her all she possibly could about the place, and the house, and the sea, and shops, and the station and everything else she could think of, and now Priscilla was looking forward to the time when she and Geoffrey would go down to Porthcallis and join Loveday.
She was just picturing to herself the journey down, and Loveday waiting for them on the platform, when she heard the front door opened and closed again.
“Mother must have got back already!” she cried joyfully. “I hope Miss Potts can come.”
Then she heard footsteps, and a moment later the door opened, and in came mother, followed by Miss Potts herself! Priscilla could scarcely believe her eyes.
“Here she is!” cried Mrs. Carlyon. “Here is your longed-for visitor. I would not let her stay even to put on her best bonnet, or her mantle, or anything.”
“No; oh dear, no! I don’t know what a sight I am looking, I am sure!” said Miss Potts nervously. “But your dear ma whisked me off, so I’d no time to change my frock or do anything but pop on my old second-best bonnet and shawl. I hope you’ll excuse me——”
Poor Miss Potts chattered on volubly, not because she really minded much, but because she was shy and nervous, and sometimes shy and nervous people feel that they must keep on saying something.
Priscilla put out her hand to clasp Miss Potts’s hand, and then put up her face to be kissed. The tears came into Miss Potts’s faded, tired eyes as she stooped and kissed her.
“I think you are looking—oh, ever so nice!” said Priscilla warmly. “I like you in that bonnet better than any. I think it suits you better.”