gh that we did come, for I like it."

"Oh, yes, so do I, Aunt Anna!" cried Letty. "It's frightfully nice. It's
like a picnic that doesn't leave off. When are we going over the house,
and out into the garden? I do so want to go--oh, I do so want to go!"
And she jumped up and down impatiently on her chair, till her ardour was
partially quenched by her mother's forbidding her to go out of doors in
the rain. "Well, let's go over the house, then," said Letty, dying to
explore.

"Oh, yes, you may go over the house," said her mother with a shrug of
displeasure; though why she should be displeased it would have puzzled
anyone who had dined satisfactorily to explain. Then she suddenly
remembered Hilton, and with an exclamation started off in search of her.

The others put on their furs before going into the Arctic atmosphere of
the hall, and began to explore, spending the next hour very pleasantly
rambling all over the house, while Susie, who had found Hilton, remained
shut up in the bedroom allotted her till supper time.

The cook showed Anna her bedroom, and when she had gone, Anna gave one
look round at the evergreen wreaths with which it was decorated and
which filled it with a pungent, baked smell, and then ran out to see
what her house was like. Her heart was full of pride and happiness as
she wandered about the rooms and passages. The magic word _mine_ rang in
her ears, and gave each piece of furniture a charm so ridiculously great
that she would not have told any one of it for the world. She took up
the different irrelevant ornaments that were scattered through the
rooms, collected as such things do collect, nobody knew when or why, and
she put them down again somewhere else, only because she had the right
to alter things and she loved to remind herself of it. She patted the
walls and the tables as she passed; she smoothed down the folds of the
curtains with tender touches; she went up to every separate
looking-glass and stood in front of it a moment, so that there should be
none that had not reflected the image of its mistress. She was so
childishly delighted with her scanty possessions that she was thankful
Susie remained invisible and did not come out and scoff.

What if it seemed an odd, bare place to eyes used to the superfluity of
hangings and stuffings that prevailed at Estcourt? These bare boards,
these shabby little mats by the side of the beds, the worn foxes' skins
before the writing-tables, the cane or wo