The drive seemed longer and duller than ever this afternoon, but Griselda bore it meekly; and when Lady Lavander, as usual, expressed her hopes about her, the little girl looked down modestly, feeling her cheeks grow scarlet.  “I am not a good little girl at all,” she felt inclined to call out.  “I’m very bad and cruel.  I believe I’ve killed the dear little cuckoo.”

What would the three old ladies have thought if she had called it out?  As it was, Lady Lavander patted her approvingly, said she loved to see young people modest and humble-minded, and gave her a slice of very highly-spiced, rather musty gingerbread, which Griselda couldn’t bear.

All the way home Griselda felt in a fever of impatience to rush up to the ante-room and see if the cuckoo was all right again.  It was late and dark when the chariot at last stopped at the door of the old house.  Miss Grizzel got out slowly, and still more slowly Miss Tabitha followed her.  Griselda was obliged to restrain herself and move demurely.

“It is past your supper-time, my dear,” said Miss Grizzel.  “Go up at once to your room, and Dorcas shall bring some supper to you.  Late hours are bad for young people.”

Griselda obediently wished her aunts good-night, and went quietly upstairs.  But once out of sight, at the first landing, she changed her pace.  She turned to the left instead of to the right, which led to her own room, and flew rather than ran along the dimly-lighted passage, at the end of which a door led into the great saloon.  She opened the door.  All was quite dark.  It was impossible to fly or run across the great saloon!  Even in daylight this would have been a difficult matter.  Griselda felt her way as best she could, past the Chinese cabinet and the pot-pourri jar, till she got to the ante-room door.  It was open, and now, knowing her way better, she hurried in.  But what was the use?  All was silent, save the tick-tick of the cuckoo clock in the corner.  Oh, if only the cuckoo would come out and call the hour as usual, what a weight would be lifted off Griselda’s heart!

She had no idea what o’clock it was.  It might be close to the hour, or it might be just past it.  She stood listening for a few minutes, then hearing Miss Grizzel’s voice in the distance, she felt that she dared not stay any longer, and turned to feel her way out of the room again.  Just as she got to the door it seemed to her that something softly brushed her cheek, and a very, very faint “cuckoo” sounded as it were in the air close to her.

Startled, but not frightened, Griselda stood perfectly still.

“Cuckoo,” she said, softly.  But there was no answer.

Again the tones of Miss Grizzel’s voice coming upstairs reached her ear.

“I must go,” said Griselda; and finding her way across the saloon without, by great good luck, tumbling against any of the many breakable treasures with which it was filled, she flew down the long passage again, reaching her own room just before Dorcas appeared with her supper.