He took her on his knee and stroked her as if she had been a kitten.

Mopsie would not be comforted.

I felt guilty and said nothing.

John looked from her to me, wondering.

At last Mopsie's news came out.
"Margery's grand London friends have been here, and they want to take her away." "What grand London friends ?" asked John, looking at me, but talking to her.
"Oh, Mr.and Miss Tyrrell, a pretty lady with long feathers and ringlets, and flounces on her dress, and a handsome gentleman who said they had missed Margery dreadfully.