One Easter time, just two years after Hetty’s return to the Hall, when Mark was at home for his holidays, he proposed to Hetty to play a trick on Miss Davis.  Hetty’s eyes danced at the thought of a trick of any kind.  She did not have much fun as a rule, and Mark’s tricks were always so funny.

“It isn’t to be a bad trick, I hope,” she said, however.

“Oh! no, not at all.  Only to dress up and pretend to be people from her own part of the world coming to see her and to bring her news.  We will be an old couple who know her friends, and are passing this way.”

“She will find us out.”

“No; we must come in the twilight and go away very soon.  She will be so astounded by what I shall tell her that she won’t think about us at all.”

“What will you tell her?”

“Oh! news about her old uncle.  She has a rich uncle and she expects to be his heiress.  Somebody told me of it.  I will tell her he is married, and you will see what a state she will be in.”

“I don’t believe Miss Davis wants anybody’s money,” said Hetty; “she works hard for herself, and I think she supports her mother. I shall have to work some day as she does, and I mean to copy her.  Only I shall have no mother to support,” said Hetty, swallowing a little sigh because Mark could not bear her to be sentimental.

“Oh! well, we shall have some fun at all events,” said Mark; “and don’t you go spoiling it, proving that Miss Davis is a saint.”

“Where can we get clothes to dress up in?” asked Hetty.

“Farmer Dawson’s son is going to bring them to me, and you will find yours in your room just at dusk.  Hurry them on fast and I shall be waiting in the passage.”

That evening two rather puny figures of an old man and woman were shown up into the school-room where Miss Davis was sitting alone, looking into the fire and thinking of her distant home.  Hetty was supposed to be arranging her wardrobe in her own room, and the other girls were with their mother.  The governess was enjoying the treat of an hour of leisure alone, when she was informed that Mr. and Mrs. Crawford from Oldtown, Sheepshire, wished to see her.

“Show them up,” said Miss Davis, and waited in surprised expectation.  “Who are they?” she thought; “I do not know the name.  But any one from dear Sheepshire—­ah, what a strange-looking pair!”

They were odd-looking indeed.  Mark was tall enough to dress up as a man, and he wore a rough greatcoat, and a white wig, and spectacles.  Hetty had little gray curls, and gray eyebrows under a deep bonnet, and was wrapped in a cloak with many capes.  In the uncertain light their disguise was complete.

“I have not the pleasure—­” began Miss Davis.

“No, you don’t know us,” said Mark, “but your friends do, and we know all about you.  We were passing this way and have brought you a message from your mother.”

“Indeed!” said Miss Davis, and her heart sank.  A letter she had been expecting all the week had not arrived.  Her mother was sick and poor.  What dreadful thing had happened at home?