o wide tracts of land without
boundaries, hundreds of acres without fence or railing--such
country as England boasts of in miniature only on its wildest
moors.

The twins were speechless and almost suffocated with excitement
when the train at last ran into a little country station, and Mr.
Orban said briskly,--

"Here we are!"

"There they are!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, with a little sob in her
voice.

"Who? who?" yelled Peter, dashing from the other side of the
carriage.

"Grannie and grandpapa," answered Mrs. Orban.

"Oh, where?" said Peter, as the train stopped. The children knew
Bob Cochrane's grandfather and grandmother--a very comfortable,
homely old pair of the typical "grannyish" type, rather bent,
rather deaf, and always referred to as "the old people." Trixy
invariably rushed at them when they came, and called them "the dear
old pets."

There was no one the least "grannyish" or cosy-looking on the
platform. Only a very erect, elderly gentleman with silver hair,
and a lady who might have been the Queen, so dignified, so stately
was she. They were the sort of people the twins had read of but
never seen.

A hush fell over the children as they scrambled out of the carriage
after their mother, and waited till their grandparents were ready
to notice them. Then they each received a kiss and a handshake
which made them instantly feel that nothing would be more
impossible than to rush upon this grandfather and grandmother and
call them either "dear," "old," or "pets."

All through the drive in the old-fashioned waggonette the sense of
unfamiliarity grew as the children stared--the twins furtively,
Peter openly--at Mr. and Mrs. Chase.

It seemed to the twins such a queer arrival, and so different to
anything they had expected, that they could scarcely believe it was
real. "Why," thought Nesta, "the Cochranes make much more fuss over
us when we go to see them for a day." But Eustace's thoughts were
too confused for description.

The conversation was funny and jerky, and just the sort of things
strangers say to each other. Mrs. Chase hoped they were not very
tired, and that they had had a nice journey. And Mr. Chase said it
was a hotter summer than there had been for the last ten years, and
so on.

"Oh dear," thought Eustace wearily, as they drove into the park,
"how different it would have been if Aunt Dorothy had been here!"

But still there was the place to be interested in, and when his
mother said,