otten to say her grace till now; they went on with their breakfast,
and in a few minutes she spoke again.

"I suppose you all like toys," she said.

The three younger ones brightened up.

"You know there are beautiful toys to be had in London, and I did think
of bringing you some, but, then, I thought that out here in the
country, with so many trees and flowers to play with, it would be like
bringing coals to Newcastle."

They understood that she had brought nothing. Mick and Jane looked
relieved, but Honeybird's eyes filled with tears. "Niver a wee dawl?"
she said.

"What does she mean?" said Aunt Charlotte. "Oh, a little doll; the
child speaks like a peasant."

No one answered. Honeybird's tears dropped into her lap. Fly passed
her a ripened gooseberry under the table.

After breakfast Aunt Charlotte said they must show her the gardens and
the stable. They had meant to go out bathing, and stay away all day;
but there was no escaping from her, so they started off, to the stables
first.

Aunt Charlotte shook her head over everything.

"Disgraceful neglect," they heard her say.

"We'll soon make it grand when our ship comes in," said Jane.

"What a strange expression," said Aunt Charlotte. "And, pray, when
will that be?"

"God knows, for I don't," said Honeybird, repeating what Andy Graham
always said when they asked him that question.

Aunt Charlotte looked at Honeybird, who was playing with the cat. "Do
you know that you have taken your Maker's name in vain?" she said. "Go
back to the house at once, you wicked child."

Honeybird stared, her grey eyes growing wider and wider.

"Do you hear me?" said Aunt Charlotte. "Go into the house at once."

With a gasp of horror Honeybird turned back across the yard, and they
heard her go into the kitchen, sobbing: "Poor, poor wee me!"

"Now take me to see the kitchen garden," said Aunt Charlotte.

"Ould Davy'll be mad if we do," said Jane.

"I wish you would speak more distinctly," said Aunt Charlotte, "I
cannot understand what you say."

"I on'y said ould Davy'd be cross," said Jane.

"What is his name? Who is he?" said Aunt Charlotte.

"'Deed, he's just ould Davy," said Patsy; "thon's him in among the
cur'n' bushes."

But ould Davy spoke for himself.

"Be off wid yer," he shouted; "away home ar this, or if I catch the
hould a' yer I'll cut yer throats."

"I tould ye he'd be cross," said Jane.

But Aunt Charlotte was running back to the