Jacinth felt half inclined to refuse, but something in the old lady's manner made it difficult to do so. She did not seem accustomed to have even her suggestions disregarded, and her invitation was more like a command.
'After your brother has finished his milk,' their hostess went on, 'perhaps he would like to walk about the garden a little with your maid, or if he is tired, there is a nice arbour over there in the corner. I want to speak to you two a little. I have some questions to ask you, but I want you to understand that I will not invite you to come in till you have got leave from—from your parents or your guardians. When I was a child I would not have entered any stranger's house without leave, and I approve of strict ways of bringing up children.'
The girls listened respectfully, making a little sign of assent. But Eugene's whole attention had been given to the milk and cakes. Now that his thirst was satisfied, he began to think about others, and for the first time found his voice.
'Mayn't Phebe have some milk and cake, too, please?' he said. 'We've been a drefful long walk. I'm sure Phebe's firsty too.'
Phebe blushed scarlet, but in spite of her terror, her good manners—and she was a specially good-mannered girl—did not forsake her.
'Master Eugene, my dear,' she said quietly. 'You forget I am not a little young gentleman like you.—If I might take his glass and plate to the arbour, my lady, he would be very happy, and out of the way.'
Lady Myrtle smiled benignly. She liked 'tact.'
'Certainly, my good girl,' she said, 'and take a glass and some cakes for yourself too.—That is a nice-mannered girl,' she added to Jacinth and Frances. 'She is both modest and sensible.'
'Yes,' said Jacinth, 'we like her very much. Aunt Alison got her for us before we came here.'
Lady Myrtle's face grew grave.