"we are so tired--poor Carrots is I mean, and so hungry, and I thought
you had forgotten us, and we're so far away from mamma."

Auntie understood all about it in a moment. She hugged Floss tight, and
only let go of her for an instant to get hold of Carrots and hug him
tight too. And then, when she saw the two tired little white faces, and
felt how wet they were, and saw the tears on Floss's cheeks, she sat
down on the hall floor, still clasping them tight, and actually cried
too.

"My two poor dear little babes in the wood," she exclaimed. "What a
dreadful mistake! What a cruel auntie you must have thought me!"

"I didn't know if you wanted us--I thought perhaps you had forgotten
about us coming," whispered Floss.

"No wonder," said auntie; "but Flossie, darling, I haven't got any
letter to say what day you were coming? That was why we were not at the
station. Sybil and I had been making such delightful plans about how we
should meet you at the station--do you think your father and mother
could have forgotten to write to tell me the day?"

"Oh no," said Floss, "I know papa wrote to tell you--he wrote the day
before yesterday, for I heard him tell mamma so. And this morning when
the post came, just as we were leaving, he wondered a little that there
was no letter from you, but he said perhaps you hadn't thought it worth
while to write, as you had said any day this week would do for us to
come."

"Of course I would have written," said auntie; "but what can have become
of the letter?"

It had evidently gone astray somehow, and that very evening the mystery
was explained, for the postman brought it--a very travel-worn letter
indeed, with two or three scrawls across it in red ink--"Missent to
Whitehurst," "Try Whitefield," etc., etc.

"Whenever a letter does go wrong, which certainly is not very often, it
is sure to be one of consequence," said auntie. But long before the
letter came Floss and Carrots had forgotten their troubles--at least if
they hadn't it was not auntie's fault, for I can't tell you how kind she
was and what a fuss she made about them. She took them up to Sybil's
nice beautiful warm nursery and all their wet things were taken off, and
Floss was wrapped up in a dressing-gown of auntie's and Carrots in one
of Sybil's, and then they had the most _lovely_ tea you can imagine.

Sybil's father was away that night and was not coming back till the next
day, and auntie was to have dinner alone, with Sybi