, gentle voice. "They have had a long
journey, and they are tired to-night. They will be glad to get to bed as
soon as we have had supper, won't you, dears?"

"Yes, mamma," Elsie answered quickly. Duncan made no reply.

"You go in there, and sit down till I come," the lady said, pointing to
an open door, through which came the gleam of a fire. She took Elsie's
hat and Duncan's cap, and went upstairs, leaving the children, as they
thought, alone.

But that was a mistake, for the gentleman came in the next moment.
However, he told them, not unkindly, to sit down and warm themselves,
which they were glad enough to do. The table was already spread for a
meal. Presently the woman brought in a dish of ham and eggs, which made
the famished creatures ready to cry with delight.

Their new mamma watched them very narrowly as they ate. Fortunately,
Mrs. MacDougall had been very strict about their behaviour, but there
were still several things that displeased their new friend, for which
she corrected them pretty sharply; and to show how easily children can
remember when they really know they must, Elsie not only bore in mind
the faults that were found with herself, but also those points in which
Duncan had offended.

The woman of the house came in by-and-by, to ask whether she should see
the children in bed. She looked so kind and nice, that Elsie hoped their
new mamma would say "Yes." She, however, declined, saying that she could
not bear any one to do anything for the children but herself. Then she
took them upstairs, and locking the door, bade them undress. She then
went to a box, and got out some night garments, which were much too
large; but the children did not mind that. She tucked Elsie kindly into
the snuggest, sweetest bed that could be, and then went to do the same
kind office for Duncan. Then telling them that they were on no account
to get up till she came to them the next morning, she left them to such
a night's rest as they had not had since they left the cottage on
Dunster Moor.

[Illustration: "'YOU ARE TO CALL ME MAMMA,' SHE SAID" (_p. 134_).]

CHAPTER XI.--"THAT CHILD IS ILL!"

The children had been in the habit of rising at an early hour all their
lives. Elsie woke the next morning about six o'clock, to find the sun
shining in brightly at the curtained window. She had always thought what
a fine thing it must be to be able to lie in bed as long as one liked,
so she was not at all averse to doing as the