hem?"

"Yes, Robert, I'm afraid."

"What? Of two small children?"

"What are they like? I haven't asked you that."

"Well, Janet's a queer, uncanny little person, rather long for her age
and very thin----"

"Like you?"

"Like me. At first you think she's all legs. Then you see a little white
face with enormous eyes that look at you as if she was wondering what
you are."

He smiled. His mind had gone off, away from her, to the contemplation of
his little daughter.

"I think she is clever, but one never knows. We have to handle her very
carefully. Barbara's all right. You can pitch her about like anything."

"What is Barbara like?"

"Barbara? She's round and fat and going to be pretty, like----"

"Like her mother?"

"No, like Janey, if Janey was fat. They're both a little difficult to
manage. If you reprove Barbara, she bursts out laughing in your face. If
you even hint to Janet that you disapprove of her, she goes away
somewhere and weeps."

"Poor little thing. I'm afraid," said Kitty sadly, "they're not so very
small."

"Well, Janet, I believe, is seven, and Barbara is five."

"Barbara is five. And, oh dear me, Janet is seven."

"Is that such a very formidable age?"

She laughed uneasily. "Yes. That's the age when they begin to take
notice, isn't it?"

"Oh, no, they do that when they're babies. Even Barbara's grown out of
that. I say, Kitty, what a lot you know."

"Don't, Robert." She looked at him imploringly and put her hand in his.

"I won't, if you'll only tell me what I'm not to do."

"You're not to tease me about the things you think I don't know. I used
to nurse my little sisters, when I wasn't very big myself. I can't nurse
Janet, or Barbara, can I?"

"Why not?"

"They wouldn't let me. They're too old. It won't be the same thing at
all."

"Well," said Robert, and paused, hiding from her the thing that was in
his mind.

"Oh, Robert, I do wish, I do wish they were really small."

"I'm sorry, Kitty. But perhaps----"

He could not hide anything from Kitty.

"No, Robert," she said, "I'm afraid there won't be any perhaps. That's
one of the things I meant to tell you. But I'm not bothering about that.
I meant--if they were little--little things, I shouldn't be so
dreadfully afraid of them."

"Why? What do you think they'll do to you, Kitty?"

"I--don't--know."

"You needn't be alarmed. I believe they're very well-behaved. Jane has
brought them up quite nicely."

"What is Ja