‘She’s coming this minute!’ said Mr. Kingsland. ’ “Talk about angels"!—­Your curiosity will soon be fed, Miss Kennedy,—­and may, perchance, like other things, grow by what it feeds on.  Here comes the redoubtable Kitty herself!—­Miss Fisher!—­my poor eyes have seen nothing since they last beheld you!’

‘Don’t see much in ordinary,’ said a gay voice; and a young lady,—­too young, alas, for the part she was playing!—­swept into the circle.  A very handsome girl, with a coronet of fair hair, from which strayed braids and curls and crinkles and puffs and bands and flowers and ribbands; her dress in the extremest extremity of the fashion, very long, very low; with puffs and poufs innumerable; the whole borne up by the highest and minutest pair of heels that ever a beguiling shoemaker sent forth.  She nodded, laughing, and held out her hands right and left.

’How d’ye do, Stephen?—­Mr. Richard May!’—­with a profound reverence.  ’And if there isn’t our Norwegian back again!  Glad to see you, Mr. Rollo.  Have you leaned how to spell your name yet?’

But to this lady Rollo gave one of his Spanish salutations; while Phinny Powder jumped up and exclaimed with pleasure, and Primrose uttered from behind them her quiet ’how d’ye do Kitty?’ Wych Hazel on her part had risen too—­drawing a little back from the front, in the sudden desire for a distant view first.

‘I see,’ Miss Fisher went on, speaking to Rollo.—­’The e in the middle as usual, and the i and the g to keep it there.  Why, Prim, my dear child!—­you here?  Among all these black coats of unclerical order?—­How do you do?’—­with an embrace.  ’And how is my uncle?—­But where is Miss Kennedy?  I am dying to see Miss Kennedy!—­and they told me she was here.’

‘The time to die is—­after you have seen Miss Kennedy,’ said Mr. Kingsland.

‘To my face!’ said Kitty.  ’Well!—­That is she, I know, behind Mr. May.  Introduce us Richard, please.’

Mr. May stepped aside, and with extreme formality presented Miss Fisher to the lady of Chickaree.  Kitty touched hands,—­and paused, forgetting to take her own away.  The young ‘unwonted’ face was certainly a novelty to her.  And a surprise.

‘We shall all be jealous of her for her little mouth,’ was her first remark.  ’Don’t everybody generally kiss you, child, that comes near enough?’

Wych Hazel withdrew her hand, stepping back again in her astonishment, and surveying Miss Fisher.

‘People do not—­generally—­come near enough,’ she said, as well as it could be said.

There was a little round of applause from the gentlemen at that.  Kitty Fisher nodded, not at all displeased.

‘She’ll do,’ she said.  ’I was afraid she was nothing but a milksop,—­all strawberries and cream.  I vow she’s handsome!’

‘Handsome is that handsome does,’ said Rollo.  ’Miss Kitty, will you sit down and take things calmly?’—­offering a chair.