Miss Jane, Where Are You Come to Lunch?

It was a very grey day, a most opaque sky, onding on snar canopied all. Thence flakes fell in intervals, which settled on the hard path and on the hoary lea without melting. All at once i heard a clear voice call, miss jane, where are you come to lunch? It was bessy. Her light step came tripping down the path, you naughty little thing. She said, why don't you come when you are called? Bessy's presence seemed cheerful, even though, as usual, she was somewhat cross. I just put my two arms round her and said, come bessi. Don't scold

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