h a tall jug of hot water
and five tumblers. And they found they had to sit down on the edges of
their beds and, receiving a full tumbler, hand back an empty one. If it
had been their mother now, they might have protested and wheedled and
got out of it in some way. But Miss Bibby was so strange to them, so
new--and then mother had bidden them, even as she gave them their last
kiss at the station, do all she bade them--that they found themselves
making an absolute habit of this watery beginning to the day. Worse
still, instead of being rewarded for such heroic behaviour, they were,
in consequence of it, deprived of the pleasant cup of cocoa or hot milk
that had always hitherto formed part of their breakfast.

"I consider it perfectly uncivilized to eat and drink at the same
meal," Miss Bibby said.

Pauline blinked at her very fast, in a way she had when angry.

"Daddy and mamma always do," she said.

"For children, I mean," said Miss Bibby, correcting herself. "I trust,
Pauline, you do not think me capable of reflecting upon the conduct of
your father and mother."

But Pauline was engrossed with her breakfast again.

"All food should be taken dry," Miss Bibby continued; "and your mother
is anxious that I should get you _into_ good ways. At the same time the
human system needs a certain degree of liquid, so I shall call you in
for your drink meals at eleven, and at three, and you may also have a
glass of water each upon retiring."

Sometimes it made the children quite depressed to watch her. Pauline
used to say she would feel perfectly happy if she could once see Miss
Bibby eat a big, lovely woolly currant bun or a plate of rich brown
sausages dished on buttered toast.

And Lynn--it actually moved Lynn to poetry, the tragedy of this meagre
fare. Pauline was bidden write "the song" down.

"And the name of the song," added the poetess after a melancholy verse
or two, "is 'Sorrow,' or 'Miss Bibby.'"

Muffie told of the appearance of Mrs. Gowan and the heroic conduct of
Pauline in announcing their contagion.

Lynn paused in her agreeable occupation of slicing up her banana and
adding strawberry jam and milk to it.

"From to-morrow," she said, "we have to keep in the orchard when we're
at home, so the man won't hear us shouting."

"What man?" asked Miss Bibby.

"The one who writes books," said Lynn.

"What is the child talking about?" said Miss Bibby, looking at Pauline.

"At 'Tenby,'" said Pauline. "Well,