So Floss and Carrots ate their bread and milk in undiminished curiosity. Not long afterwards the bell rang for prayers in the dining-room as usual, and the two, hand in hand, went in to take their places among the others.
They were rather late, Captain Desart had the Prayer Book and Bible open before him, and was looking impatient, so Floss and Carrots sat down on their little chairs and left "good-mornings" till after prayers. There was a strange lady beside their mother, and, yes, beside the strange lady a strange little girl! Was that Sybil? Where was the fair-haired, blue-eyed, waxen, doll-like Sybil, they had expected to see?
What they did see was worth looking at, however. It was a very pretty Sybil after all. Small and dark, dark-eyed, dark-haired, and browny-red as to complexion, Sybil was more like a gipsy than an angel as they had fancied her. She had very pretty, very bright, noticing eyes, and she was pretty altogether. She was dressed in black velvet with a bright crimson sash, and her hair was tied with crimson ribbon; her neat little legs were clothed in black silk stockings, and there were buckles on her tiny shoes.
Floss and Carrots hardly dared to stare at her for her eyes seemed to be noticing them all over, and when prayers were finished, and their mamma called them to come to speak to their aunt and cousin, do you know they actually both felt quite shy of Sybil, small as she was? More shy of her than of their aunt, somehow; she seemed more like what they had expected, or, perhaps, the truth was, they had "expected" much less about her. Besides no children ever were shy with auntie, such a thing would have been impossible.
They kissed Sybil, Floss feeling very tall and lanky beside her compact tiny cousin, and Carrots feeling I don't know how. He just looked at Sybil with his soft wondering brown eyes, in such a solemn way that at last she burst out laughing.
"What a funny boy you are!" she exclaimed. "Mother dear, isn't he a funny boy?"
"Aren't you very tired, Sybil?" said Floss, afraid that she would be laughed at as "a funny girl," next.
"No, thank you," said Sybil, quite grave, and like a grown-up person, all in a minute. "I'm becustomed to travelling. I'm not tired at all, but I'll tell you what I am—I'm," and out broke her merry laugh again, "I'm very hungry."
"That's a broad hint," said Captain Desart, laughing too. "Florence, your daughter is ready for breakfast, do your hear? Where will you sit, Miss Sybil? Beside your old uncle, eh?"
"Yes, thank you," replied Sybil, "if you won't call me Miss Sybil, please. And may this little boy sit 'aside me?"