e bushes, I saw her trotting
towards an open space of lawn the other side the pond, chattering to
herself in her accustomed fashion, a doll tucked under either arm, and
her brow knit with care. Propping up her double burthen against a
friendly stump, she sat down in front of them, as full of worry and
anxiety as a Chancellor on a Budget night.

Her victims, who stared resignedly in front of them, were recognisable
as Jerry and Rosa. Jerry hailed from far Japan: his hair was straight
and black, his one garment cotton of a simple blue; and his
reputation was distinctly bad. Jerome was his proper name, from his
supposed likeness to the holy man who hung in a print on the staircase;
though a shaven crown was the only thing in common 'twixt Western saint
and Eastern sinner. Rosa was typical British, from her flaxen poll to
the stout calves she displayed so liberally; and in character she was of
the blameless order of those who have not yet been found out.

I suspected Jerry from the first. There was a latent devilry in his
slant eyes as he sat there moodily; and knowing what he was capable of,
I scented trouble in store for Charlotte. Rosa I was not so sure about;
she sat demurely and upright, and looked far away into the tree-tops in
a visionary, world-forgetting sort of way; yet the prim purse of her
mouth was somewhat overdone, and her eyes glittered unnaturally.

'Now, I'm going to begin where I left off,' said Charlotte, regardless
of stops, and thumping the turf with her fist excitedly: 'and you must
pay attention, 'cos this is a treat, to have a story told you before
you're put to bed. Well, so the White Rabbit scuttled off down the
passage and Alice hoped he'd come back 'cos he had a waistcoat on and
her flamingo flew up a tree--but we haven't got to that part yet, you
must wait a minute, and--where had I got to?'

Jerry only remained passive until Charlotte had got well under way, and
then began to heel over quietly in Rosa's direction. His head fell on
her plump shoulder, causing her to start nervously.

Charlotte seized and shook him with vigour. 'O Jerry,' she cried
piteously, 'if you're not going to be good, how ever shall I tell you my
story?'

Jerry's face was injured innocence itself. 'Blame if you like, Madam,'
he seemed to say, 'the eternal laws of gravitation, but not a helpless
puppet, who is also an orphan and a stranger in the land.'

'Now we'll go on,' began Charlotte once more. 'So she got into