Suddenly she caught sight of the truants.
"Here he is, Mr. Crouch!" she exclaimed. "No need now to send to look
for him. Oh, Master Phil, how could you stay out so late? And to-night
of all nights, just when your--I forgot, I mustn't say. Come in to the
parlour at once--and this little girl, who is she?"
"She isn't a little girl, she's a young lady," said Master Phil, putting
on his lordly air, "and she's to come into the parlour and have some
supper with me, and then some one must take her home to her auntie's
house--that's what I say."
More to please Phil than from any wish for "supper," for she was really
in a fidget to get home, Griselda let the little boy lead her into the
parlour. But she was for a moment perfectly startled by the cry that
broke from him when he opened the door and looked into the room. A lady
was standing there, gazing out of the window, though in the quickly
growing darkness she could hardly have distinguished the little figure
she was watching for so anxiously.
The noise of the door opening made her look round.
"Phil," she cried, "my own little Phil; where have you been to? You
didn't know I was waiting here for you, did you?"
"Mother, mother!" shouted Phil, darting into his mother's arms.
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