“Miss Meadows, Norna,” she said, “there is the robin. I’m sure it’s our robin. Don’t you think it is, Miss Meadows?”
The governess smiled.
“There are a great many robins, Ivy dear. It’s not very likely it’s the same one. We human beings are too stupid to tell the difference between birds of the same kind, you see.”
But, as you know, Ivy was right.
“Do let’s follow him a little way down the lane,” she said. “He keeps hopping on and then looking back at us. I wonder if his home is down here.”
No, it was not my home, but it was my little friends’ home; and soon I managed to bring the little party to a standstill before the cottage gate, where I had perched.
“What a nice cottage,” said Norna; and so it looked at the first glance. But in a moment or two she added: “Oh, do look at that little girl; how very thin and pale she is!”
It was Joyce. Miss Meadows called to her; and in her kind way soon got the little girl to tell her something of their troubles. Things were even worse with them to-day; for Jem’s feet were so bad with chilblains that he could not get about at all. The governess satisfied herself that there was no illness in the cottage that could hurt Norna and Ivy, and then they all went in to see poor Jem; and Miss Meadows went upstairs to speak to the bedridden father. When she came down again her face looked very sad, but bright too.
“Children,” she said, as soon as they were out on the road again, “I don’t think we need go on to the village. We have found what we were looking for.”
Then she went on to tell them that she had left a message with the woodcutter, asking his wife to come up to speak to her that evening at the Manor House.