Then one day, when she was alone, the mistress came near to her, and touching her cheek with her fingers, said with some difficulty.

“Would you like to come to tea with me on Saturday, Ursula?”

The girl flushed all gratitude.

“We'll go to a lovely little bungalow on the Soar, shall we? I stay the week-ends there sometimes.”

Ursula was beside herself. She could not endure till the Saturday came, her thoughts burned up like a fire. If only it were Saturday, if only it were Saturday.

Then Saturday came, and she set out. Miss Inger met her in Sawley, and they walked about three miles to the bungalow. It was a moist, warm cloudy day.