Eleanor, as we sat down, "the boys will be
here, and then we shall be quite happy."

Eleanor and I were as much absorbed by the prospect of the boys' arrival
as we had been by the coming of her parents.

We made a "ruin" at the top of the little gardens, which did not quite
fulfil our ideal when all was done, but we hoped that it would look
better when the ivy was more luxuriant. We made all the beds look very
tidy. The fourth bed was given to me.

"Now you _are_ our sister!" Eleanor cried. "It seems to make it so real
now you have got _her_ bed."

We thoroughly put in order the old nursery, which was now "the boys'
room," a proceeding in which Growler and Pincher took great interest,
jumping on and off the beds, and smelling everything as we set it out.
Growler was Clement's dog, I found, and Pincher belonged to Jack.

"They'll come in a cab, because of the luggage," said Eleanor, "and
because we are never quite sure when they will come; so it's no use
sending to meet them. They often miss trains on purpose to stay
somewhere on the road for fun. But I think they'll come all right this
time--I begged them to--and we'll go and meet them in the
donkey-carriage."

The donkey-carriage was a pretty little thing on four wheels, with a
seat in front and a seat behind, each capable of holding one small
person. Eleanor had almost outgrown the front seat, but she managed to
squeeze into it, and I climbed in behind. We had dressed Neddy's head
and our own hats liberally with roses, so that our festive appearance
drew the notice of the villagers, more than one of whom, from their
cottage-doors, asked if we were going to meet "the young gentlemen," and
added, "They'll be rare and glad to get home, I reckon!"

Impatience had made us early, and we drove some little distance before
espying the cab, which toiled uphill at much the same pace as the black
snails crawled by the roadside. Eleanor drew up by the ditch, and we
stood up and waved our handkerchiefs. In a moment two handkerchiefs were
waving from the cab-windows. We shouted, and faint hoorays came back
upon the breeze. Neddy pricked his ears, the dogs barked, and only the
cabman remained unmoved, though we could see sticks and umbrellas poked
at him from within, in the vain effort to induce him to hasten on.

At last we met. The boys tumbled out, one on each side, and a good deal
of fragmentary luggage tumbled out after them. Clement seemed to be
rather older than Elea