, though Esther often longed to.

So things were on that sunny May day when Penelope lay dreaming and
watching the butterflies in the neglected garden, and Esther made a milk
pudding in the kitchen, and the two younger children played about the
house, while nearer and nearer came the postman bearing the letter that
was to alter all their lives for them.

Esther had just finished making her pudding, and Poppy had that moment
succeeded in inveigling Angela into the cupboard under the stairs and
turning the key on her, when footsteps came up the path, a letter dropped
in through the letter-box, and a postman's rat-tat sounded to the
furthermost corner of the little house.

The post was the principal excitement of the day to the little Carrolls,
and there was usually a race to the door to try to be first to seize the
letters. This time Poppy had a clear start, for Esther was in the
kitchen, and Angela was safely under lock and key.

"A letter from daddy," she shouted, recognising the stamp; and in she flew
with it to her mother.

Mrs. Carroll, roused from her reading, laid aside her novel and bottle of
smelling-salts to take the letter. Having secured and handed over the
prize, Poppy danced off again. She was far more interested, at that
moment, in her prisoner, whose kicks on the door and screams of rage had
brought Esther to her rescue.

Esther, having released one sister, strolled wearily out into the garden
to seek another and a little rest. She was very tired and very depressed;
but the garden did not look inviting when she got there.

"How can you like this untidy old place?" she cried, as she made her way
through the long rank grass.

"Oh, Esther, come gently, do! Look, oh do look at that lovely dragon-fly!
Did you ever see such a beauty? Don't disturb him. Oh, do be careful!"

But Esther looked with only half-interest at the gorgeous insect; then,
turning away a little impatiently, "I don't know how you can be out here
so much and not try to make it a little tidier," she said vexedly.
"I only wish I had a machine, or shears or something, and more time, and I
would do something to it."

Esther was by nature a very neat and dainty little person, with none of
Penelope's dreamy indifference to her surroundings. The untidy garden
with its air of neglect would have been irritating to her if it had
belonged to some one else, but being their own, and feeling responsible
for it, it vexed her so she could h