The days that followed were strange and very trying.  It was not at all easy for any of them to settle down to the new life.  Kitty, though, did not feel the giving up of the keys and the role of housekeeper as much as she had expected to; for, in the first place, the keys had generally been lost, and in the second, she had never really “kept house” in the true meaning of the term, and it really was a great relief to find the meals appearing regularly and satisfactorily without any effort on her part, or, perhaps, one should say, without any remorse, or occasion for remorse, for not having made any effort.

It was really a comfort, too, not to have to try to manage the servants, or blame herself for not doing so.  But, on the other hand, they all missed their freedom dreadfully—­their freedom of speech and act, their freedom in getting up and going to bed, in their goings and comings; for Aunt Pike believed, quite rightly, of course, in punctuality and early rising, and keeping oneself profitably employed, and she disapproved strongly of their roaming the country over, as they had done, as strongly as she disapproved of their sitting on garden walls, wandering in and out of stables, coach-house, and kitchen, talking to the servants, or teasing Jabez.

Jabez grew quite moped during the weeks that followed, for he was not even allowed to come into the kitchen for a comforting cup of tea as of old.  “And if anybody can’t have a bit of a clack sometimes,” groaned poor Jabez, “nor a cup of tea neither, why he might so well be dumb to once.  I’ve ackshally got to talk to the ’orses and the cat to keep my powers of speech from leaving me.”

Life seemed very dull and dreary to all the household, except, perhaps, to Mrs. Pike and Dr. Trenire.  The latter was too busy just then to realize the changes going on in his home; while Mrs. Pike was fully occupied with all that lay at her hand to do.

Anna’s presence did not add at all to the liveliness of the house.  She was shy and nervous.  Of Dan she was, or pretended to be, quite afraid, and if she happened to have blossomed into talk during his absence, she would stop the moment he appeared—­a habit which annoyed him extremely.  To Betty, who was to have been her special companion, she showed no desire to attach herself, but to Kitty she clung in a most embarrassing fashion, monopolizing her in a way that Kitty found most irksome, and made Betty furious, for hitherto Kitty had been Betty’s whenever Betty needed her.  Now she was rarely to be found without Anna.  But Kitty, along with the others, never felt that she could trust Anna; and they could not throw off the feeling that they had a spy in their midst.

And, worst of all, the beautiful summer days glided away unappreciated, and there were many bitter groans over what might have been had they been alone.  They thought longingly of the excursions and picnics, the drives, and the free happy days in the open that they might have had.