‘Is he married?’ asked Celestina’s mother.  ’Oh yes, by the bye, I remember Mr. Redding spoke of children, but old Captain Deal came in just as he was telling more and I could not hear the rest.’

’There are several children and Mrs. Vane a youngish lady still, he said.  The old Rectory will want some overhauling before they come to it, I should say,’ remarked Mr. Fairchild.  ’It must be nigh upon forty years since Dr. Bunton came there, and there’s not much been done in the way of repairs, save a little whitewashing now and then.  The doctor and Mrs. Bunton haven’t needed much just by themselves—­but a family’s different; they’ll be needing nurseries and schoolrooms and what not, especially if they have been used to grand London ways.’

Celestina had been turning her bright brown eyes from one parent to another in turn as they spoke.

‘Is London much grander than Seacove?’ she asked.  ’I thought the Rectory was such a fine house.’

Mrs. Fairchild smiled.

’It might be made very nice.  There’s plenty of room any way.  And many clergymen’s families are very simple and homely.’

‘I wonder if there are any little girls,’ said Celestina.  ’And do you think they’ll go to Miss Peters’s to school, mother?’

Her father turned on her rather sharply.

‘Dear me, no, child.  Of course not,’ he said.  ’Miss Peters’s is well enough for plain Seacove folk, but don’t you be getting any nonsense in your head of setting up to be the same as ladies’ children.  Mrs. Vane comes of a high family, I hear; there will be a French ma’amselle of a governess as like as not.’

Celestina looked at her father with a world of puzzle in her eyes, her little pale face with a red spot of excitement on each cheek.  But she was not the least hurt by her father’s words.  She simply did not understand them:  what are called ‘class distinctions’ were quite unknown to her innocent mind.  Had she been alone with her mother she might have asked for some explanation, but she was too much in awe of her father to question him.

Her mother turned to her somewhat abruptly.

‘I want some more water; the kettle, Celestina love,’ she said; and as the little girl brought it, ’I will explain to you afterwards, but don’t say any more.  Father is tired,’ she whispered.

And Celestina quickly forgot all about it; the sight of Eleanor and Amy still reposing on the hearthrug as she replaced the kettle drove out of her mind all thoughts of the possible little Misses Vane.

After tea, when the things were cleared away and Celestina had helped her mother to make the room look neat and comfortable again, fox the little servant in the kitchen was seldom seen in the parlour, as she fidgeted Mr. Fairchild by her awkward clattering ways, Mrs. Fairchild went upstairs to fetch some sewing that needed seeing to.

‘I will look for a scrap or two for you,’ she said to Celestina as she went.  ’But I’m not sure that you should sew any more to-night.  It’s trying for your eyes.’