d so's papa. But I'm
always doing something I oughtn't to," he added, slowly. "But then, you
know, I don't pretend to obey Sarah. I don't care a fig for Sarah; and I
won't obey any woman but mamma."

"Who's Sarah?" asked the grandfather.

"She's our nurse," said Robin, "and she tells--I mustn't say what she
tells--but it's not the truth. She told one about _you_ the other day,"
he added.

"About me?" said the old man.

"She said you were our grandpapa. So then I knew she was telling _you
know what_."

"How did you know it wasn't true?" the old man asked.

"Why, of course," said Robin, "if you were our mamma's father, you'd
know her, and be very fond of her, and come to see her. And then you'd
be our grandfather, too, and you'd have us to see you, and perhaps give
us Christmas-boxes. I wish you were," Robin added with a sigh. "It would
be very nice."

"Would _you_ like it?" asked the old man of Dora.

And Dora, who was half asleep and very comfortable, put her little arms
about his neck as she was wont to put them around the Captain's, and
said, "Very much."

He put her down at last, very tenderly, almost unwillingly, and left the
children alone. By-and-by he returned, dressed in the blue cloak, and
took Dora up again.

"I will see you home," he said.

The children had not been missed. The clock had only just struck nine
when there came a knock on the door of the dining-room, where the
Captain and his wife still sat by the Yule log. She said "Come in,"
wearily, thinking it was the frumenty and the Christmas cakes.

But it was her father, with her child in his arms!

VIII.

The Captain had many friends who knew of the sad estrangement between
his wife and her father. Some of them were in church the next day, which
was Christmas Day, when the Captain's wife came in. They would have hid
their faces, but for the startling sight that met the gaze of the
congregation. The old grandfather walked into church abreast of the
Captain.

"They've met in the porch," whispered one under the shelter of his hat.

"They can't quarrel publicly in a place of worship," said another,
turning pale.

"She's gone into his seat," cried a girl in a shrill whisper.

"And the children after her," added her sister, incautiously aloud.

There was now no doubt about the matter. The old man in his blue cloak
stood for a few moments politely disputing the question of precedence
with his handsome son-in-law. Then the Captain bo