a cat, called
Impy, who was the proud and watchful mother of three dear little
kittens, as black, as soft, as sleek as herself.

Behind the house was the garden, a peaceful old-world spot, with its
prim gravelled paths, boxwood borders, holly hedges, and wealth of
vegetables, fruit, and flowers. There Green, the deaf old gardener,
reigned supreme, not always paying heed to Aunt Catharine herself. And
there also, in a sheltered corner, stood Auntie Alice's beehives, around
which the small, busy brown bees buzzed and droned from dawn till dark,
laying up their stores of rich golden honey that was to supply the
little ones with many a toothsome morsel. Then there was the lawn with
its velvety sward, spreading shrubs, and stately cedar; and at the back
of the buildings, beyond the garden to the right, sloped the fields of
Copsley Farm; while to the left, lying in a gentle hollow, there uprose
the dark massed pines of Copsley Wood.

Darby and Joan were not allowed to go beyond the boundaries of Firgrove
alone or without special permission, but within their limits they
wandered about free as air. It was their father's express wish that they
should not be molly-coddled in any way, and, indeed, nurse had little
leisure to look after them. Her time was chiefly occupied with baby
Eric, who, although improving, was still delicate and fretful, and
seemed to find the difficulty of cutting his teeth, and life in general,
almost too much for him. Aunt Catharine's notion of the needs of
children began and ended with giving them plenty of plain, wholesome
food, seeing that they went early to bed, were properly clothed, and
knew their Catechism thoroughly. She instructed Darby and Joan for an
hour each morning in the mysteries of reading, writing, and counting.
She drilled them most conscientiously in the commandments, and always
with the "forbiddens" attached. She hedged them about with "don'ts", and
believed she was teaching them obedience. And when the tasks were done,
and the books put away for the day, it would have been hard to say
whether the teacher or the taught uttered the heartier thanksgiving.
Then, believing that she had done everything that duty demanded of her,
Aunt Catharine felt herself free to attend to her prize poultry, her
poor women, and parish meetings.

Auntie Alice loved the little ones dearly. She enjoyed their chatter and
a romp with them now and again. But she had not been used to children;
she was actuall