nd we got a lot of fir cones
too--mums does so love the scent of them in the fire, and as people
often feel a little chilly when they first come out to the country, we
fixed we'd have a nice fire in the evening, and make it nearly all of
the cones.

After that we went in and arranged our flowers; there's always lots of
moss in the woods, and with moss you can make a good show even with very
little.

Then there came tea-time. We were a good while over tea, for even though
Serry had been all right so far, both Anne and I felt a little fidgety--
Serry was almost _too_ good, if you understand.

It was half-past five, or nearer six than that, I daresay, when we had
finished tea. Anne and I wanted to go to the church about a quarter to
seven, meaning to be back before half-past, which was the two little
ones' bed-time, so that we could help Mrs. Parsley if she needed us.

Mrs. Parsley looked rather worried when she came in to take away the tea
things--not _crossly_ worried, for she was as kind as could be, but just
troubled. And afterwards we knew that the reason was that an old aunt of
theirs who lived a mile or two off was very ill, and had sent for her,
but she didn't like to go because of leaving us. She didn't tell us; I
almost think it would have been better if she had, for then Anne and I
would have given up going out and have looked after Serry and Maud till
nurse came back. Only, if we _had_ done that, very likely nothing would
have happened the same, and the wond----no, I must go straight on.

Well, we played 'patience,' and did everything we could to please Serry
till about half-past six. Did I tell you that there's a very jolly old
clock in the Parsley's summer kitchen?--so we always know the time. Then
I said to Anne I thought she might go and get ready, and we might as
well start, and 'you two,' I said to Serry and Maud, 'can go to Mrs.
Parsley till we come back.'

Maud began gathering up the cards and counters and things we'd been
playing with, and putting them together tidily--she's always so
tidy,--but Serry had got a 'patience' half set out.

'Do let me finish this,' she said, 'and then I promise you I'll go into
Mrs. Parsley's kitchen.'

'You promise,' I said. By this time Anne had come downstairs with her
hat and jacket on, and I was standing by the door with my cap in my
hand.

'Promise,' said Serena, 'word of honour.'

Well, she's not a story-teller after all, and she wouldn't break a
right-