Poor Lady Woodley was too weary and languid to exert
herself to speak to the little girl about her unsuitable manner, or
to try to bring the lesson home to her; she dismissed her, only
saying, "I hope, my dear, you will remember this," and away ran Lucy,
first to the orchard in search of her brothers, and not finding them
there, round and round the garden and pleasance. Edmund, in his
hiding-place, heard the voice calling "Walter! Charlie!" and peeping
out, caught a glimpse of a little figure, her long frock tucked over
her arm, and long locks of dark hair blowing out from under her
small, round, white cap. What a pleasure it was to him to have that
one view of his little sister!
At last, tired with her search, Lucy returned to the house, and there
found Deborah ironing at the long table in the hall, and crooning
away her one dismal song of "Barbara Allen's cruelty."
"So you can sing again, Deb," she began, "now the Roundheads are gone
and Diggory come back?"
"Little girls should not meddle with what does not concern them,"
answered Deborah.
"You need not call me a little girl," said Lucy. "I am almost eleven
years old; and I know a secret, a real secret."
"A secret, Mistress Lucy? Who would tell their secrets to the like
of you?" said Deborah, contemptuously.
"No one told me; I found it out for myself!" cried Lucy, in high
exultation.
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