"Where did you used to sit when you was a little girl?" she asked suddenly,
when she had been reflecting a bit.
"I? Oh, I sat at the side of the table," said Miss Parrott, starting, as
she was thus hastily summoned down into her past.
"Then can't I sit there now?" cried Rachel, flying out of her chair again.
"Say, can't I? Do let me." She ran clear around the table and hung over
Miss Parrott's chair.
Hooper groaned again and looked steadfastly out of the opposite window.
"My child," exclaimed Miss Parrott; her tone was very grave, but she put
her long arm around Rachel and drew her closely to her, "remember what I
said: you must not leave your chair during a meal."
"I forgot," Rachel flew back again, not waiting for her request to be
granted, and sat down meekly in her place.
"And you must eat something," continued Miss Parrott, glancing at the
little girl's plate, and with dreadful qualms at her old heart for having
been severe. "If you don't, Rachel, Mrs. Henderson won't let you come here
again."
The solemn butler folded and unfolded his hands, while his face expressed
the belief that such a calamity could possibly be borne.
"And if you didn't come, Rachel"--Miss Parrott took up her cup of tea, and
set it down again untouched--"I should feel very sorry; I should indeed,"
she added, with a little catch in her throat.
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