hildren remembering to rub their feet on the mat, shut the door
softly, and not fidget at meals. But the exertion seemed too much for
them, and the second day began rather boisterously, and did not improve
as it went on. After lunch, when the twins came into the drawing-room,
Lucy drew a footstool near her aunt, and sat down meekly upon it,
thinking that the sooner Aunt Anne began to talk the sooner it would be
over.

Aunt Anne was feeling almost as much embarrassed by the presence of so
many children as they were by that of their aunt, but her sense of duty
was strong, and she began to make conversation with the one nearest
her--who happened to be Lucy.

"What are you doing in lessons now, Lucy?"

Lucy looked solemn.

"Chiefly history," she said.

Frances laughed.

"It's only stories," she exclaimed, "that Barbara tells her and Dick."

"It's history," repeated Lucy indignantly; "isn't it, Dick? It's all
about England."

"I should have thought writing was more suitable for a little girl like
you."

Frances opened her mouth to retort, but caught a warning glance from
Barbara and subsided. Then conversation languished and Lucy looked
across longingly at her sister, to see if she had done her duty. But
not being able to catch her eye, she sighed, and supposing she had not
yet fulfilled her part, cast about in her mind for something else to
say.

"Do you live far from here?" she began suddenly, staring at her aunt.

"Quite a long way," Miss Britton replied. "In Wales--perhaps you know
where that is?"

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Lucy, rising in her excitement. "It's where the
ancient Britons were sent. Barbara told us about them. Oh, please
Aunt Anne, aren't you an ancient Briton?"

Aunt Anne smiled grimly.

"No, I am not. They lived in quite the olden times, and were clothed
in skins."

"But are you sure?" pressed the child. "It's just the skins seem
wanting. They were driven into Wales, and surely you're a Briton and
come from the olden times. You're really quite ancient aren't you,
Aunt Anne?"

Barbara was thankful her aunt laughed, but she was not so glad that
Donald and Frances found their laughter so irrepressible that they had
to resort to the sofa-cushions; and when the twins were dismissed a
little later by Mrs. Britton, she was rather relieved to see them
follow. But from that moment the spirit of hilarity seemed to have
fallen upon all the children, and Barbara looked regretfully at