But just then another person came upon the scene. A little figure with bright dark eyes and flying hair came dancing into the hall.
"Who's there, Fletcher?" she said. "Is it the post?"
"No miss," said Fletcher, rather glad of some one to consult in his perplexity. "I don't know who it is—that's to say, it's a little boy and girl who say as they've come from the station, but I can't justly make out who it is they want."
"How funny," said Sybil, coming forward and peering out from under Fletcher's arm, "perhaps they'll tell me what they want. Who are you, little girl? Is it my mother you want? Will you give me your message?"
She looked more like a little princess than ever. She was dressed to go down to the drawing-room before dinner—all white embroidery and lace and rose-coloured ribbons. Floss and Carrots looked at her with a sort of dazzled admiration, mingled with shy bewilderment. It all seemed more of a mistake than ever—Sybil was evidently not expecting them—if only the railway station had not been so dreadfully far away, Floss felt as if she would have liked to take Carrots by the hand and go away back again, all the long weary way to Sandyshore!
But Carrots' faith in auntie and Sybil was unshaken—and his childlike confidence less susceptible of chill. Partly from mortification, partly to hide that she was crying, Floss stood perfectly silent, but Carrots pressed forward.
"It is Flossie and me, Sybil—don't you remember us? We've walked such a long way, and there was nobody to meet us at the station, and we are so cold and so hungry!"
Sybil gave a sort of leap into the air. "Floss and Carrots!" she cried, "oh mother, mother, come quick, here are Floss and Carrots!"
She seemed to fly across the hall in one second, and darting down a passage disappeared, crying out all the way, "Flossie and Carrots—oh mother, mother, come."
And before the children had time to consider what they had best do, and long before the very deliberate Mr. Fletcher had collected his wits sufficiently to decide upon inviting them to come in, Sybil was back again, closely followed by her mother, whom she had dragged out of the drawing-room without any other explanation than her cry of "Floss and Carrots, oh mother, Flossie and Carrots."