44 Turnaside Cottage.

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were, and I would not take Miss Churchill so far
in the blazing sun until I had been there myself to
make sure of it. As soon, therefore, as I had brought
Monna home that evening, and had hastily
swallowed my tea, I ran off to the hollow, found
the moss growing there, filled my hat with it, and
was across the common again, and half-way up the
drive leading to the big house, before I considered
what I was about. There I suddenly came to a
sense of my own rashness, and stopped short, half
minded to turn round and go home again after all.
I felt ashamed to do this, however ; besides, some-
body might already have seen me from the great
house windows.

Should I go to the back door and ask for Miss
Churchill? But the servants would be sure to turn
me away: a little ragged boy with a hatful of moss.
They might laugh at me, too. No, that was not to
be thought of. Should I put the moss down at the
garden gatc, and leave it there? but the gardener
might sweep it away, or the wind scatter it before
the morning.

While I stood hesitating, I thought I heard Miss
Churchill’s voice, and looking over the garden fence,
I saw what I knew to be the top of her hat moving
along. If I could only let her know that I was here ?
What if Il were to cry “ Ma’am,” or “My Lady”?