"Are you awake, missie?" she said gently.
Griselda started up.
"Yes," she exclaimed. "Is it you, cuckoo? I'm quite awake."
"Bless the child," said Dorcas to herself, "how her head does run on Miss Sybilla's cuckoo. It's really wonderful. There's more in such things than some people think."
But aloud she only replied—
"It's Dorcas, missie. No fairy, only old Dorcas come to comfort you a bit. Listen, missie. Your auntie is going over to Merrybrow Hall to-morrow to inquire about this little Master Phil from my Lady Lavander, for we think it's at one of her ladyship's farms that he and his nurse are staying, and if she hears that he's a nice-mannered little gentleman, and comes of good parents—why,
missie, there's no saying but that you'll get leave to play with him as much as you like."
"But not to-morrow, Dorcas," said Griselda. "Aunt Grizzel never goes to Merrybrow till the afternoon. She won't be back in time for me to play with Phil to-morrow."
"No, but next day, perhaps," said Dorcas.
"Oh, but that won't do," said Griselda, beginning to cry again. "Poor little Phil will be coming up to the wood-path to-morrow, and if he doesn't find me, he'll be so unhappy—perhaps he'll never come again if I don't meet him to-morrow."