ed a
look in my face that Pierson was quite startled. "You may be sure of
that; for whatever I'd bear for myself, I'd bear nothing for them."

"But it wouldn't be as bad as that, Miss Audrey," said Pierson, rather
startled at the effect of her words. "Of course they all _mean_ to be
kind to you--there's no doubt about that; and then your papa and mamma
wished you to stay here. I shouldn't talk so out to you as I do, but I
was just that vexed at Mrs. Partridge interfering so."

I turned upon Pierson impatiently.

"I wish you wouldn't be so changeable," I said. "I can't bear people
that say a thing and then try to unsay it. I don't believe they _do_
mean to be kind to us."

"Hush, hush, Miss Audrey, don't let your brothers hear what you are
saying, any way. We must try and find something to amuse them with, this
dull day."

I went into the day nursery to see what the boys were doing, for my
conversation with Pierson had been in the bedroom. Poor little boys,
they did not look very merry. Racey, who was cleverer at amusing himself
than Tom, was creeping about the floor drawing an imaginary cart, in
reality the lid of Pierson's bonnet-box, to which with some difficulty
he had ingeniously fastened his own two boots as horses, for the toys we
had brought with us were not yet unpacked. Racey was quite cracked about
horses--he turned everything into horses.

"Look, Audrey, look," he said. "See my calliage and pair. But Tom won't
play."

"How could I play with that rubbish?" said Tom. "Indeed, I don't care to
play at all. I don't want Pierson to unpack our toys."

"Why not?" I asked, rather puzzled.

Tom was sitting on the window-sill, which was wide--for the house was
rather an old one I think--swinging his feet about and staring gloomily
at the dull rows of houses opposite.

"Why don't you want Pierson to unpack our toys?" I repeated.

"Oh because--because-- I can't quite say what I mean. If our toys were
all unpacked and put out nicely like they used to be at--at home," said
poor Tom with a tremble in his voice, "it would seem as if we were to
stay here _always_--as if it was to be a sort of a home to us, and you
know it would only be a pertence one. I'd rather just have it like it
is, and then we can keep thinking that it's only for a little--just till
they come back again."

I did not answer at once. What he said made me think so much of that day
when poor mother couldn't bear to pack up any pretty things for