"It's you, Miss Earnshaw, I'm quite sure it's you," she called out; "come in quick, you funny Miss Earnshaw. Come in."
But though the door slowly opened, no Miss Earnshaw appeared. Peggy began to think this was carrying fun too far.
"Why don't you come in quick?" she said, her voice beginning to tremble a little.
The door opened a little farther.
"Missy," said a low voice, a childish hesitating voice, quite different from Miss Earnshaw's quick bright way of speaking, "Missy, please, it's me, Sarah, please, miss."
And the door opened more widely, and in came, slowly and timidly still, a small figure well known to Peggy. It was none other than Light Smiley.
Peggy could hardly speak. She was so very much astonished.
"Light Smiley—Sarah, I mean," she exclaimed, "how did you come? Did you see Fanny? Did she tell you to come upstairs?"
Sarah shook her head.
"I don't know who Fanny is, missy. I just comed in of myself. The doors was both open, and I didn't meet nobody. I didn't like for to ring or knock. I thought mebbe your folk'd scold if I did—a gel like me. Mother knows I've comed; she said as how I'd better bring it myself."