Is Miss Cookson here ?' Milly's candid countenance changed at once.

She frowned--it might have been said she scowled.
'She came the day Mr.Sarratt went away, Miss.

Well of course it's not my place to speak, Miss--but _she_ don't do Mrs.Sarratt no good!' Miss Martin couldn't help a smile--but she shook her head reprovingly all the same, as she hastened away.

Milly had been in her Sunday-school class, and they were excellent friends.
Across the Rotha, she pursued a little footpath leading to the lakeside.
It was a cold day, with flying clouds and gleams on hill and water.

The bosom of Silver How held depths of purple shadow, but there were lights like elves at play, chasing each other along the Easedale fells, and the stony side of Nab Scar.
Beside the water, on a rock, sat Nelly Sarratt.