in such a relation brought to her lips a fresh question. "Have you seen papa?" she asked of Sir Claude.
It was the signal for their going off again, as her small stoicism had perfectly taken for granted that it would be. All that Mrs. Beale had, nevertheless, to add was the vague apparent sarcasm: "Oh, papa!"
"I'm assured he's not at home," Sir Claude replied to the child; "but if he had been I should have hoped for the pleasure of seeing him."
"Won't he mind your coming?" Maisie went on.
"Oh, you bad little girl!" Mrs. Beale humorously protested.
The child could see that at this Sir Claude, though still moved to mirth, colored a little; but he spoke to her very kindly. "That's just what I came to see, you know—whether your father would mind. But Mrs. Beale appears strongly of the opinion that he won't."
This lady promptly justified her opinion to her stepdaughter. "It will be very interesting, my dear, you know, to find out what it is, to-day, that your father does mind. I'm sure I don't know!" And she repeated,
