SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
"A mark on her face, you know. A round, red mark—"
"Big as a threepenny bit, pretty nearly," said the Squire.
"Where?"
"On her cheek."
"Where is the girl?" asked Lady Meg. Her whole demeanor had changed, her bored air had vanished. "She seemed fair excited," Mr. Byles reports. Then she turned to the said Byles: "Find out where that girl is, and let me know. Don't tell her anything about it. I'll go to her."
"But let me send for her—' began the Squire, courteously.
"No, give me my own way. I don't want her frightened."
The Squire gave the orders she desired, and the last Mr. Byles heard as he left the room was from Lady Meg:
"Marks like that always mean something—eh, Pindar?"
No doubt Mr. Pindar agreed, but his reply is lost.
The girls in the avenue had made their plan. Sophy would not bow her head to Mrs. Smilker, nor longer eat the bread of benevolence embittered by servitude. She would go with Julia; she, too, would tread the boards—if only she could get her feet on them; and when did any girl seriously doubt her ability to do that? The pair were gay and laughing, when suddenly through the gate came Lady Meg and the spaniels—Lady Meg ahead as usual, and with a purposeful air.
"Who are they?" cried Sophy.
Hazleby is but twelve miles from Morpingham. Julia had been over to see the big house, and had sighted Lady Meg in the garden.
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