“Thank you for helping Tiza out of her scrape.”

“And you’ll let Becky and Tiza come to tea?” asked Milly again.

“Well, I’m sure, Miss, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Backhouse, looking puzzled; “Becky may come and welcome, but perhaps it would do Tiza good to stay at home.”

“Don’t you think she’d better have a little change?” said Aunt Emma in her kind voice, which made Milly want to hug her.  “I daresay staying indoors so long made her restless.  If you will let me carry them both off, I daresay between us, Mrs. Backhouse, we can give Tiza a talking to, and perhaps she’ll come back in a more sensible mood.”

“Well, Miss Elliot, she shall go if you wish it.  Come Becky, give me the baby, and go and put your things on.”  And then going to the door, Mrs. Backhouse shouted “Tiza!” After a second or two a little figure dropped down out of the cherry tree and came slowly up the walk.  Tiza had shaken her hair about her face so that it could hardly be seen, and she never looked once at Aunt Emma and Milly as she came up to her mother.

“There, go along, Tiza, and get your things on,” said Mrs. Backhouse, taking her by the arm.  “I wouldn’t have let you go out to tea, you know, if Miss Elliot and Missy hadn’t asked particular.  Mind you don’t get into no more mischief.  And very like those eggs’ll do for father’s supper; so, I daresay, I’ll not say anything to him this time—­just for once.  Now go up.”

Tiza didn’t want to be told twice, and presently, just as Mr. and Mrs. Norton and Olly were coming back from their walk, they met Aunt Emma coming back from the farm holding Becky’s hand, while Milly and Tiza walked in front.

“Well, Tiza,” said Mr. Norton, patting her curly head, I declare I think you beat Olly for mischief.  Olly never spoilt my dinner yet, that I remember.  What should I do to him do you think, if he did?”

“Beat him,” said Tiza, looking up at Mr. Norton with her quick birdlike eyes.

“Oh dear, no!” said Mr. Norton, “that wouldn’t do my dinner any good.  I should eat him up instead.”

“I don’t believe little boys taste good a bit,” said Olly, who always believed firmly in his father’s various threats.  “If you ettened me, father, you’d be ill.”

“Oh no,” said Mr. Norton, “not if I eat you with plenty of bread-sauce.  That’s the best way to cook little boys.  Now, Milly, which of you three girls can get to that gate first?”

Off ran the three little girls full tilt down the hill leading to Ravensnest, with Olly puffing and panting after them.  Milly led the way at first, for she was light and quick, and a very fair runner for her age; but Tiza soon got up to her and passed her, and it was Tiza’s little stout legs that arrived first at Ravensnest gate.

“Oh, Becky!” said Milly, putting her arm round Becky’s neck as they went into the house together, “I hope you may stay a good long time.  What time do you go to bed?”