s well you've got one person who's wide awake
to look after you all in this wicked London!'

Margot stumped down the stairs, her cap quivering with excitement. The
children hung over the banisters watching her. They saw the
sitting-room door open, and Miss Robsart came out.

'Then I will send you my references tomorrow morning. I shall prefer
to do so. Good morning.'

'Margot, show this lady out.'

It was their father who spoke, and Margot moved down the passage
slowly. She opened the hall door and eyed Miss Robsart up and down
with grim eyes and lips, then she suddenly followed her out on the
door-step and half closed the door behind her.

'She's scolding her,' said True.

They waited anxiously. Presently Margot came in and shut the door.
She shook her head doubtfully, then went into the sitting-room, and the
children heard a long conversation going on between her and their
father. When they came to the dinner-table with him, True asked him,
'Did Margot say nasty things about our governess?'

'Our governess, indeed!'

Mr. Allonby leant back in his chair and gave one of his hearty laughs.

'Margot told her she was a wolf in sheep's clothing, I believe. I
don't know what she'll say when she knows. I have practically engaged
her on the strength of her frank honest face and gentle voice. Fortune
favoured you, young pickles, for you tumbled against the right sort.
She may not be very learned or experienced, but she knows enough to
teach you, and I am glad to have the thing settled.'

The children clapped their hands.

'She's coming, and we won't have to go to school.'

'I'll keep you with me this winter, but I shall really have to take an
extra room for my writing; this one sitting-room will never hold us
all.'

A few letters with references passed between Miss Robsart and Mr.
Allonby, and then, in spite of Margot's prejudice, she came every
morning and gave the children their lessons.

The novelty kept them good. Miss Robsart was young and bright, and had
a real love for children, and a gift for imparting knowledge, so things
went smoothly. Mr. Allonby took himself and his writing into a small
back room, which was the delight of True's heart. She dusted it, and
tidied it, and cleaned everything she could lay her hands upon. Bobby
was jealous of the time she spent in there.

'I ought to be there more than you,' he argued; 'it's a man's room.'

'Mother told me I was to keep dad's rooms tidy,