u ever read," said Peter.

"You ought to be very proud to have such a clever Mother."

"Yes," said Peter, "but she used to play with us more before she had to
be so clever."

"Well," said the Station Master, "I must be getting along. You give us
a look in at the Station whenever you feel so inclined. And as to coals,
it's a word that--well--oh, no, we never mention it, eh?"

"Thank you," said Peter. "I'm very glad it's all straightened out
between us." And he went on across the canal bridge to the village to
get the buns, feeling more comfortable in his mind than he had felt
since the hand of the Station Master had fastened on his collar that
night among the coals.

Next day when they had sent the threefold wave of greeting to Father by
the Green Dragon, and the old gentleman had waved back as usual, Peter
proudly led the way to the station.

"But ought we?" said Bobbie.

"After the coals, she means," Phyllis explained.

"I met the Station Master yesterday," said Peter, in an offhand way,
and he pretended not to hear what Phyllis had said; "he expresspecially
invited us to go down any time we liked."

"After the coals?" repeated Phyllis. "Stop a minute--my bootlace is
undone again."

"It always IS undone again," said Peter, "and the Station Master was
more of a gentleman than you'll ever be, Phil--throwing coal at a chap's
head like that."

Phyllis did up her bootlace and went on in silence, but her shoulders
shook, and presently a fat tear fell off her nose and splashed on the
metal of the railway line. Bobbie saw it.

"Why, what's the matter, darling?" she said, stopping short and putting
her arm round the heaving shoulders.

"He called me un-un-ungentlemanly," sobbed Phyllis. "I didn't never call
him unladylike, not even when he tied my Clorinda to the firewood bundle
and burned her at the stake for a martyr."

Peter had indeed perpetrated this outrage a year or two before.

"Well, you began, you know," said Bobbie, honestly, "about coals and all
that. Don't you think you'd better both unsay everything since the wave,
and let honour be satisfied?"

"I will if Peter will," said Phyllis, sniffling.

"All right," said Peter; "honour is satisfied. Here, use my hankie,
Phil, for goodness' sake, if you've lost yours as usual. I wonder what
you do with them."

"You had my last one," said Phyllis, indignantly, "to tie up the
rabbit-hutch door with. But you're very ungrateful. It's quite right
what it