For this was a wonderful thing which had come into her life.—­She had met someone who could see the other side of her head!  Henceforth there would be a human voice, not only a fairy’s, to converse with her.  Indeed, the world was a very fair place!

Here, Priscilla found her when it was growing dark, still with the rapt expression of glad thought on her face.  And the elderly woman shook her head.  “That child is not canny,” she muttered, while aloud she chided her for idleness and untidiness in having thrown her cap on the floor.

But Halcyone flung her arms round Priscilla’s neck and laughed in her beard.

“Oh, you dear old goosie!  I have been with the Immortals on the blue peaks of Olympus and there we did not wear caps!”

“Them Immortals!” said Priscilla.  “Better far you were attending to things you can see.  They’ll be coming down and carrying you off, some of these fine nights!”

“The Immortals don’t care so much about the nights, Priscilla—­unless Artemis is abroad—­she does—­but the others like the sunlight and great white clouds and a still blue sky.  I am quite safe—­” and Halcyone smiled.

Priscilla began tidying up.

“Ma’m’selle’s wrote to the mistresses to say she won’t come back, she can’t put up with the place any longer.”

This sounded too good to be true!  Another governess going!  Surely they would see it was no use asking any more to come to La Sarthe Chase—­Halcyone had never had one who could appreciate its beauties.  Governesses to her were poor-spirited creatures afraid of rats, and the dark passages—­and one and all resentful of the rag-stuffed panes in the long gallery.  Surely with the new-found Cheiron to instruct her about those divine Greeks a fresh governess was unnecessary.

“I shall ask Aunt Ginevra to implore my stepfather not to send any more.  We don’t want them, do we, Priscilla?”

“That we don’t, my lamb!” agreed Priscilla.  “But you must learn something more useful than gods and goddesses.  Your poor, dear mother in heaven would break her heart if she knew you were going to be brought up ignorant.”

Halcyone raised her head haughtily.

“I shan’t be ignorant—­don’t be afraid.  I would not remain ignorant even if no other governess ever came near me.  I can read by myself, and the dear old gentleman I saw to-day will direct me.”  And then when she perceived the look of astonishment on Priscilla’s face:  “Ah!  That is a secret!  I had not meant to tell you—­but I will.  The orchard cottage is inhabited and I’ve seen him, and he is Cheiron, and I am going to learn Greek!”

“Bless my heart!” said Priscilla.  “Well, now, it is long past seven o’clock and you must dress to go down to dessert.”

And all the time she was putting Halcyone into her too short white frock, and brushing her mane of hair, the child kept up a brisk conversation.  Silent for hours at a time, when something suddenly interested her she could be loquacious enough.