sn't very big! They
stood together hand in hand on the station platform, looking, and
feeling, rather desolate. Lisa was busy helping with the rugs and
bags that had been in the carriage; mother and auntie, as well as
grandfather and Peters and the maid, were all busy about the luggage.

"Stay there a moment, children," said somebody; but Denny had no idea of
staying anywhere. Off she trotted to have a look at the luggage too, and
Celia was half inclined to follow her, when her glance fell on her two
little brothers.

"Celia," said Baby, catching hold of her, "don't go away too. Fritz is
taking care of him, but we _might_ be lostened."

He spoke rather timidly, and Celia's heart was touched. She was a good
deal older than the others--nearly twelve--Fritz and Denny were very
near in age, and sometimes Celia was a little cross at mother for not
making difference enough, as she thought, and for keeping her still a
good deal in the nursery. Mother had her own good reasons, and it is not
always wise for big people to tell children their reasons, as Celia got
to know when she grew wiser and bigger herself. She sometimes spoke
rather crossly to the younger ones, and it made them a very little
afraid of her, but in her heart she was kind. Just now she stooped down
to kiss Baby.

"Don't be frightened, poor old man," she said, "you won't be lost. Fritz
wouldn't let you be lost, would you, Fritz?"

Fritz brightened up at that, as Celia had meant he should. He, too, had
been feeling a little strange and queer--the long journey and the
sleeping in the day, all so different from their life at home, had
rather upset him--but he would not have liked to say so! And now he was
quite pleased at Celia telling Baby that, of course, Fritz was big
enough to take care of him. It is so easy for children--bigger ones
above all--to please each other and give nice feelings, when they really
try to feel _with_ each other and _for_ each other.

The little boys looked much happier a few minutes later, when they were
seated at tea in a comfortable corner of the refreshment room.
Grandfather had sent Peters on, as soon as they had got the luggage all
safe, to see that a table was placed for them by themselves. He,
himself, went off to get some real dinner, for, of course, it was not to
be expected that a gentleman, and especially an _old_ gentleman, would
be contented with tea, and bread and butter, and buns, however nice,
but, to the children's