hankful--they were not outwardly so unpresentable
as she had anticipated.

Nesta, still smarting under a sense of disappointment, had made a
sullen resolution not to appear to want to know anything at all. In
spite of Herbert's assurances she was quite sure she did know a
great deal about the house and grounds. Brenda and he should see
later that she did.

Eustace held his tongue because he had literally nothing to say
that was at all agreeable. They had begun the day by going into
their mother's room to say good-morning.

"O children," she had exclaimed when she saw them, "isn't it all
lovely?"

"It is, mummie," began Nesta in such a miserable voice that Eustace
knew she was going on with a "but."

There were tears of joy in Mrs. Orban's eyes. To her at least
everything was perfect. Eustace was standing close to Nesta, and he
gave her a surreptitious pinch that just nipped the complaint right
off before the "but" could come out.

"It is ripping, mother," he said. "I never thought it would be half
so splendid."

"I knew you would love it," said Mrs. Orban confidently; "and it is
so jolly for you having Brenda and Herbert. If only--"

She stopped, and her face had grown suddenly sad. There was always
that "if only." The twins knew she was thinking of Aunt Dorothy.

"Look here, Nesta," said Eustace in a low voice when they left the
room, "don't you go grumbling to mother and spoiling everything for
her, or you will be a selfish little pig."

"But when things are horrid--" began Nesta.

"It won't make them better to worry her," said Eustace shortly.

"But how could you say it is splendid?" Nesta said with a choke.

"Well, isn't it?" said Eustace. "I was thinking about the house and
the park. It was not the people mother told us about before we
came, but the place."

"Grannie and grandfather are not a bit like what I thought," Nesta
remarked in an aggrieved tone.

"They are very beautiful," said Eustace in an awed voice. "They
somehow match the house and everything in it, and it seems to make
them much too grand for us."

"I know Herbert and Brenda think _themselves_ much too grand for
us," said Nesta crossly. "Fancy their thinking such silly things
about the way we lived, just as if we weren't ladies and gentlemen!
Why, last night, when Brenda told me we were to go in to dessert,
she said, 'You know people always dress for dinner in England,' in
that snubby way of hers; and I laughed right out, and sa