"Mother, mother!" shouted Phil, darting into his mother's arms.
But Griselda drew back into the shadow of the doorway, and tears filled her eyes as
for a minute or two she listened to the cooings and caressings of the mother and son.
Only for a minute, however. Then Phil called to her.
"Mother, mother," he cried again, "you must kiss Griselda, too! She's the little girl that is so kind, and plays with me; and she has no mother," he added in a lower tone.
The lady put her arm round Griselda, and kissed her, too. She did not seem surprised.
"I think I know about Griselda," she said very kindly, looking into her face with her gentle eyes, blue and clear like Phil's.
And then Griselda found courage to say how uneasy she was about the anxiety her aunts would be feeling, and a messenger was sent off at once to tell of her being safe at the farm.
But Griselda herself the kind lady would not let go till she had had some nice supper with Phil, and was both warmed and rested.
"And what were you about, children, to lose your way?" she asked presently.