Miss Mouse and Her Boys

'I think I like Archie best of the big ones,' said Rosamond. 'But I'm not frightened of any of them, though I was a little at first.'

Uncle Ted looked pleased at this.

'That's right, my little girl,' he said kindly. 'It never does any good to be frightened. And you may be of a great deal of use to Aunt Mattie's nephews while you're here. I can never forget how much I owed to a dear little girl cousin of ours when I was a small boy with a lot of brothers like the Herveys – a very rough set we were too.'

'How nice,' said Rosamond, looking very interested. 'Do I know her, Uncle Ted?'

He shook his head.

'I don't think so,' he replied. 'She's never been in our part of the world since she married. But, oddly enough, you rather remind me of her sometimes, Miss Mouse.'

And when Miss Mouse went to bed that night, her thoughts about Moor Edge and the five boys there were all very bright and pleasant. It would be so nice if she could be 'of use to them all,' like that cousin of Uncle Ted's long ago.

CHAPTER V
BOB

When the boys had watched their aunt and Rosamond drive away, Justin turned to Archie.

'Come along,' he said, 'I want to go and ask Griffith about the ferrets. I wonder if Tom Brick has brought them.'

The two walked off together, but they had not gone far before they were overtaken by Pat, who came running after them.

'What do you want?' said Justin, not too amiably. 'I didn't ask you to come.'

'You're not my – ' began Pat, but checked himself. 'Why shouldn't I come?' he went on in a pleasanter tone. 'I should like to see the ferrets too.'

'Yes,' put in Archie, 'why shouldn't he, Justin, if he wants to?'

'I suppose you've finished your story,' said Justin gruffly, 'and then when you've nothing better to do you condescend to give us your company. But I warn you, if you come with us, I won't have any sneaking or tell-taleing about anything we do.'

Pat opened his eyes – they were large dark eyes with a rather sad expression, quite unlike any of his brothers' – with a look of great surprise.

'What on earth could there be for me to tell-tale about,' he said, 'in just going to look at Tom Brick's ferrets? And what's more,' he added, with some indignation in his voice, 'it'll be time enough for you to speak to me like that when you do find me tell-taleing.'

'Yes,' chimed in peace-loving Archie, who was struck by Pat's unusual gentleness, 'I think so too, Jus. You're rather difficult to please, for you're always going on at Pat for not joining in with us, and when he does come you slang him for that.'

Apparently Justin found self-defence rather difficult in the present case, for he only muttered something to the effect that Pat might come if he chose – it was all one to him.

But Pat already felt rewarded for what he had tried to do by Archie's taking his part. For though Archie was a most thoroughly good-natured boy, he had come to be so entirely under Justin's influence that his acting upon his own feelings could scarcely be counted upon. And he himself was a little puzzled by what Justin had said. There could not be anything to sneak or tale-tell about if old Griffith had to do with it – Griffith had been with their father long before they were born, and Mr. Hervey trusted him completely.

Justin led the way to the stable-yard, which was at some little distance from the house. There was no one to be seen there, though the boys called and whistled.

'Griffith may be in the paddock,' said Archie, 'looking after mamma's pony,' for Mrs. Hervey's pony had not been driven lately, having got slightly lame.

The paddock was some way farther off, but as the boys ran along the little lane leading to it, they heard voices in its direction which showed that Archie's guess was correct, and soon they saw a little group of men and boys, old Griffith in the middle of them.

Justin ran up to them eagerly.

'I say,' he began, in his usual rather masterful tone, 'has Tom – ' and then he stopped, for Tom Brick, a labourer on a neighbouring farm, was there to answer for himself. 'Have you brought the ferrets?' the boy went on, turning to him. 'I suppose it's too late to do anything with them this afternoon?'

Tom Brick touched his cap, looking rather sheepish.

'I've not brought 'em, sir,' he replied; 'fact is, I've not got 'em to bring. I just stepped over to tell Master Griffith here as I've sold 'em – for a good price too; so I hope you'll ex – cuse it. I didn't want to keep 'em, as they're nasty things to have about a little place like mine with the children and the fowls, and my missus as can't abide 'em.'

'I certainly think you should have kept your promise to us before you parted with them,' said Justin, in his lordly way. 'I think it's a great shame. What's to be done now, Griffith?' he went on, to the coachman. 'The place will be overrun with rats.'

But Griffith was just then absorbed by the pony, for the third man in the group was the 'vet' from the nearest town, who had come over to examine its leg again, and, before replying to Justin, he turned to the stable-boy, bidding him fetch something or other from the house which the horse-doctor had asked for.

'Griffith!' repeated Justin impatiently, 'don't you hear what I say?'

Griffith looked up, his face had a worried expression.

'Is it about these ferrets?' he said. 'I can't be troubled about them just now, Master Justin. It's this here pony needs attending to. We'll get rid of the rats, no fear, somehow or other.'

Justin was too proud to begin any discussion with the coachman before the 'vet,' who was an important person in his way. So he walked off, looking rather black, followed by his brothers, Pat, to tell the truth, by no means sorry at the turn that things had taken.

'Griffith is getting too cheeky by half,' said Justin at last, in a sullen tone.

'He's in a fuss about mamma's pony, I suppose,' said Archie. 'But it is rather too bad of that Tom Brick, only – '

'What?' said Justin. 'Why don't you finish what you've got to say?'

'It's only that I don't know if papa and mamma care much about our ferreting; at least mamma doesn't, I know,' said Archie. 'I've heard her say it's cruel and ugly.'

'All women think like that,' said Justin; 'my goodness, if you listen to them you'd have a pretty dull time of it. I don't see anything cruel about it when they're just muzzled, and as for killing the rats! – they have to be killed.'

'All the same,' said Pat, 'it must be rather horrid to see.'

'It's no horrider than heaps of other things that are awfully jolly too,' said Justin. 'I suppose when you're a man you won't hunt, Pat, for fear you should be in at the death.'

'Hunting's different,' said Pat. 'There's all the jolliness of the riding. And shooting's different. There's the cleverness of aiming well, and papa says that when a bird's killed straight off, it's the easiest death it could have.'

'It's bad shots that make them suffer most,' said Archie. 'But I say, Jus, where are you going to. It must be nearly six. Have you finished your lessons?'

'Mind your own business,' said Justin, 'I'm not going in just yet, to be mewed up with Miss Ward in the schoolroom. I want a run across the moor first.'

To this neither of his brothers made any objection. There was one point in common among all the Hervey boys, and that was love, enthusiastic love, of their moor – its great stretch, its delicious, breezy air, the thousand and one interests they found in it, from its ever-changing colouring, its curious varieties of moss, and heather, and strange little creeping plants, to be found nowhere else, to the dark, silent pools on its borders, with their quaint frequenters; everything in and about and above the moor – for where were such sunsets, or marvellous cloud visions to be seen as here? – had a charm and fascination never equalled to them in later life by other scenes, however striking and beautiful.

Pat felt all this the most deeply perhaps, but all the others too, even careless Archie, and Justin, rough schoolboy though he was, loved the moor as a sailor loves the sea.

This evening the sunset had been very beautiful, and the colours were still lingering about the horizon as the boys ran along one of the little white paths towards the west.

'It's a pity Miss Mouse can't see it just now,' said Archie suddenly. 'She's a jolly little girl. I liked her for liking the moor. The next time she comes we can take her a good way across it, as far as Bob Crag's; she'd like to see the queer cottage.'

'I bet you she'd be frightened of old Nance,' said Justin, with some contempt, 'she'd think her a witch; girls are always so fanciful.'

'You can't know much about girls,' said Pat. 'I'm sure Miss Mouse isn't silly. If she did think Nance a witch she'd like her all the better. You heard what she said about fairy stories.'

'Fairy rubbish,' said Justin. 'I believe you were meant to be a girl yourself, Pat.'

Pat reddened, but, wonderful to say, did not lose his temper, and before Justin had time to aggravate him still more, there came an interruption in the shape of a boy who suddenly appeared a few paces off, as if he had sprung up out of the earth. He had, in fact, been lying at full length among the heather.

'Master Justin!' he exclaimed. 'I heard you coming along and I've been waiting for you. I were going home from Maxter's,' and he nodded his head backwards, as if to point out the direction whence he had come.

'Well,' said Justin, 'and what about it?'

'I axed about them there ferrets as I was telling you about t'other day,' said the boy.

Justin threw a doubtful glance over his shoulder at his brothers. Bob, for Bob Crag it was, caught it at once.

'It was just when we was talking about what they cost,' he said carelessly, 'I thought maybe you'd like to know.'

'Tom Brick has sold his, did you know that?' said Pat, by way of showing interest in the subject.

'He's been talkin' about it for a long time,' said Bob. 'But his weren't up to much. Those I've been told about are – why, just tip-toppers!' and out of his black eyes flashed a quick dart to Justin.

He was a striking-looking boy, with the unmistakable signs of gipsyhood about him, sunburnt and freckled, as if his whole life had been spent out of doors, which indeed it mostly had. His features were good, his eyes especially fine, though with an expression which at times approached cunning. His teeth, white as ivory, gleamed out when he smiled, and in his smile there was something very charming. It was curiously sweet for such a rough boy, and with a touch of sadness about it, as is often to be seen in those of his strange race. He was strong and active and graceful, like a beautiful wild creature of the woods. Nevertheless it was not to be wondered at, that, in spite of his devotion to the boys, to Justin especially, Mr. Hervey had often warned his sons against making too much of a companion of old Nance's grandson, for hitherto no one had succeeded in taming him – clergyman, schoolmaster, kind-hearted ladies of the country-side had all tried their hands at it and failed. Bob was now thirteen, and did not even know his letters! Yet in his own line he was extremely clever, too clever by half in the opinion of many of his neighbours, though not improbably it was a case of giving a dog a much worse name than he deserved. Never was a piece of mischief discovered, which a boy could have been the author of – from bird's nesting to orchard robbing – without gipsy Bob, as he was called, getting the credit of it. And this sort of thing was very bad for him. He knew he was not trusted and that he was looked upon askance, and he gradually came to think that he might as well act up to the character he by no means altogether deserved, and his love of mischief, innocent enough as long as it was greatly mingled with fun, came to have a touch of spite in it, which had not been in Bob's nature to begin with.

There were two things that saved him from growing worse. One was his intense, though half-unconscious, love of nature and all living things, with which he seemed to have a kind of sympathy, and to feel a tenderness for, such as are not often to be found in a boy like him. The second was his grateful devotion to the Hervey family, which his strange old grandmother, or great-grandmother, maybe, had done her utmost to foster.

'Where are they to be seen?' said Justin, in a would-be off-hand tone. 'It would do no harm to have a look at them.'

'In course not,' said Bob eagerly. 'It's a good bit off – the place where they are – but I know what I could do – I could fetch 'em up to our place to-morrow or next day, and you could see them there.'

Justin glanced at his brothers, at Pat especially, but, rather to his surprise, Pat's face expressed no disapproval, but, on the contrary, a good deal of interest. It was from Archie that the objection came.

'I don't see the good of Bob getting them, as we can't buy them,' he said.

'How do you know we can't buy them?' asked Justin sharply.

'They cost a lot,' Archie replied, 'and, besides, I'm sure papa and mamma wouldn't like us to have them. Mamma can't bear them, as you know.'

'She need never see them,' said Justin, whose spirit of contradiction was aroused by Archie's unusual opposition, 'and as for what they cost – how much do they cost, Bob?'

'I couldn't say just exactly,' said Bob, 'but I can easy find out, and I'd do my best to make a good bargain for you. Five to ten shillin' a couple, any price between those they might be,' he went on, 'and if you really fancied them – why, I daresay granny'd let me keep them for you, and when there come a holiday I could fetch 'em to wherever you like.'

'There's the old out-houses that papa thought of pulling down,' said Justin. 'They're a nest of rats, I know, and we might be there a whole afternoon without any one finding out, or we might use them for rabbiting sometimes.'

Bob's face grew rather serious.

'That's not as good fun,' he said quickly. To tell the truth he had a very soft corner in his heart for the poor little bunnies, with their turned-up, tufty white tails, scampering about in their innocent happiness. 'Rats is best, and a good riddance.'

'Five to ten shillings a couple,' repeated Justin. 'I have only got two, if that. What are you good for, Archie?'

'Precious little,' the younger boy replied. 'And I don't know that I care about – '

'You are a muff,' said Justin crossly, 'a muff and a turncoat. You were hotter upon ferreting than I was.'

'I'd be hot upon it still,' said Archie, 'if we could do it properly, with Griffith at home. But I don't think it worth spending all our money upon when very likely we wouldn't be allowed to keep them.'

'We could keep them at Bob's place,' said Justin. 'But as we haven't got the money there's no more to be said, I suppose.'

'I've got some money,' said Pat. 'Why don't you ask me to join, Justin?'

'You!' said Justin, in a tone of mingled contempt and surprise. 'When do you ever spend money on sensible things? – Would they want to be paid the whole at once, do you think, Bob?' he went on, turning to him.

'I shouldn't think so,' the boy replied, 'anyway I could see about that.'

'How much have you got, Pat?' Justin now condescended to ask. Pat considered.

'Three shillings, or about that,' he answered.

'Three and two, and something to make up another shilling with Archie's,' said Justin. 'Well we shouldn't be far short. I think you may as well fetch them, Bob, and let us know. You can look out for us on our way home to-morrow afternoon.'

They had not been standing still all this time. The ground was a little clearer where they had met, and they had been able to stroll on abreast, though scarcely noticing they were moving. And now they were but a short way from Bob's home.

He was always eager to show such hospitality as was in his power to 'his young gentlemen,' as he called them, and he knew that few things pleased his granny more than to have a word with them.

'I'll show you the corner where I could put up a box for the ferrets, if you'll step our way,' he said, and in a minute or two the four boys had reached the cottage, if cottage such a queer erection could be called.

Justin and his brothers knew it well by sight, but they had very seldom gone inside, and, to Pat especially, there was a good deal of fascination about the Crags' dwelling-place. He was not sorry, as they came near to it, to see old Nance herself standing in the doorway, a smile of welcome lighting up her brown wrinkled face, and showing off her still strong even white teeth and bright black eyes.

CHAPTER VI
FERRETS AND FAIRIES

Old Nance's way of speaking, like everything else about her, was peculiar to herself. Nobody could tell by it from what part of the country she had come, all that they could say was, that her talk was quite unlike that of her neighbours. Neighbours, in the common sense of the word, the Crags had none, for their cottage was very isolated. Moor Edge was the only house within a couple of miles, and except for the Herveys themselves, its nearness would have been no good to the old woman, for the servants were all full of prejudice against her and her grandson. This she well knew, but she did not seem to mind it.

'Good-day, Master Justin,' she said, as the boys came within speaking distance. 'I am pleased to see you. You won't be on your way to school just now, so you'll spare the old woman a few minutes, won't you? and give her some news of your dear papa and mamma, bless them, and Miss Mattie that was, and the little young lady that's biding with her, and is going to have her lessons with the little young gentlemen at the house.'

The three Hervey boys stared.

'Who told you so, Nance?' said Archie, the readiest with his tongue. 'There is a little girl at Aunt Mattie's, but we never saw her till this afternoon, and nobody has said anything about her having lessons at our house.'

'How do you hear things?' added Pat, looking the old woman straight in the face, for he had had, before this, experience of old Nance's extraordinary power of picking up news. 'Is she really a witch?' he added to himself, though he would not have dared to say it aloud.

Nance smiled, but did not reply.

'Won't you step in?' she said, pushing the door of the cottage wider open. 'I've just tidied up, and I was fetching in a handful of bracken. It flames up so brightly.'

It was chilly outside, and Nance's fire was very inviting. Pat stepped forward to it, and stood warming his hands over the blaze.

'And so your papa and mamma are away?' continued the old woman. 'You'll be missing them, though it's not for long.'

'There you are again!' said Pat. 'You know more about us than we do ourselves. We have not heard for certain when they're coming back.'

'I don't mind if they stay away a little longer,' said Justin. 'It's rather fine being alone for a bit. If only we had holidays just now, and Miss Ward was away too, it would be very jolly.'

Nance patted his shoulder with her thin brown hand.

'Book learning's all very well,' she said. 'Young gentlemen like you must have it. But it do seem against nature for young things to be cooped up the best part of the day. There's my Bob now, there's no getting him to stay indoors an hour at a time, be the weather what it will,' and she glanced at her grandson with a certain pride.

Bob laughed, and in the dancing firelight his teeth glistened like pearls.

'I think we mustn't stay longer,' said Archie suddenly. He meant what he said, but, besides this, somehow or other, he always felt a little afraid of Nance, and this evening the feeling was stronger than usual. The growing darkness outside, the peculiar radiance of the fire, for the flames were dancing up the chimney like live things, and, above all, the old woman's strange knowledge of matters which it was difficult to account for her having heard, all added to this creepy feeling. And added to this, Archie had a tender conscience, and he knew that though they had never been actually forbidden to speak to the Crags, their father and mother did not care about their doing so, more than was called for in a kindly, neighbourly way.

Justin and Patrick had consciences too, though Justin was very clever at 'answering his back,' and trying to silence its remarks, while Pat was so often in a kind of dreamland of his own fancy, that he slipped into many things without quite realising what he was about. Just now he was enjoying himself very much. He loved the queerness and fascination of old Nance and her belongings. It was like living in a fairy-story to him, and he felt rather cross at Archie for interrupting it, though he said nothing.

'I'm not going,' said Justin, 'till I've seen the corner where Bob means to keep our ferrets if we get them.'

'To be sure,' said Bob eagerly. 'I'll show you where in a minute if you'll come with me, Master Justin.'

And the two went out together. Archie got up to follow them, but stopped short in the doorway, for, in spite of his fears, he was really more interested in Nance than in the ferrets. Her first remark surprised him again exceedingly.

'And you'll bring the little young lady to see me some day soon, Master Pat, won't you?' she said. 'She'd like to come, I know, for she's heard tell of me, and she loves the moor.'

'Nance,' said Pat gravely, 'I do believe you heard us talking on the mound this afternoon, when Miss Mouse was with us, and that's how you know all these things.'

Nance only laughed.

'Think what you're saying, Master Pat,' she replied. 'Could I have been near you and you not see me? Unless I had the hiding-cap that the fairies left behind them on the moor many a year ago, but that nobody's found yet, though many have looked for it.'

'Then how do you know they left it,' said Pat quickly.

''Tis just an old tale,' she said carelessly. 'These days are past and gone – worse luck. It was fine times when the good people came about – fine times for those they took a fancy to, at least. Why, there was my own great-grandmother had many a tale to tell, when I was a child, of what they did for her and hers to help them through troubles and bring them good luck.'

'Your great-grandmother,' repeated Pat, 'why what an awfully long time ago that must have been! For I suppose you are very old yourself, Nance, aren't you?'

She did not seem at all offended at this remark. On the contrary she nodded her head as if rather pleased, as she replied,

'You're in the right there, Master Pat,' she said. 'I've lived a good while; longer than you'd think for, perhaps, and I've seen strange things in my time. And my great-grandmother was a very old woman when I remember her. And yet it was seldom, even in those days, that the good people showed themselves.'

'Do they never come now?' inquired Archie, from the doorway. 'Not even in wild, lonely places like this,' for he was gazing out upon the moor, and the fast-falling darkness added to the mysterious loneliness of the far-stretching prospect before him.

His words gave Pat a new idea.

'Your stories can't have to do with this moor, Nance,' he said. 'You didn't live here when you were young, I know.'

Nance shook her head.

'Deed no,' she replied. 'Many a long mile away from here. The place I first remember was lonesome, if you like. There's not many such places to be found now, and they're getting fewer and fewer. No wonder the good people are frightened away with the railways coming all over the country. Why, the stage-coaches were bad enough, and some folks say there'll be no more of them,' and again Nance shook her head.

'Was your old home a moor too?' asked Pat. 'Was that why you came to live here?'

'You've guessed true,' replied the old woman. 'The moorland air is native air to me, though this is a small place compared to where I was born. It'll last my time, however, and yours too for that matter. There'll be no railroads across it till the world's a good many years older.'

'How do you know that?' asked Pat, with increasing curiosity. 'Do you know things that are going to happen as well as things that have happened? I wish you'd tell me how you find them out!'

'That I can't do,' was the reply. 'There's some as has the gift, though how it comes they can't tell. It's like music, there's some as it speaks to more than any words, and others to whom one note of it is like another. And who can say why!' She ended, drawing a deep breath.

This talk was growing rather beyond Archie. He strolled into the little kitchen again towards his brother, who was still seated by the fire, where Nance had by this time settled herself opposite him. The flames were still dancing gaily up the chimney. It almost seemed to Pat as if they leaped and frolicked with increased life as the old woman held out her hands to their pleasant warmth. But then of course Pat was very fanciful.

'Tell us a story of the fairies and your great-grandmother,' said Archie. 'What was it they did to help her?'

'There's not time for it now,' Nance replied. 'There's Master Justin and Bob at the door,' and, sure enough, as Archie looked round the two other boys made their appearance, though not the slightest sound of their footsteps had been heard.

Certainly, old as she was, Nance's hearing seemed as quick as that of the fairy Five-Ears.

'I don't want to keep you longer,' she went on, 'or your folk wouldn't be best pleased with me. You must come another day, and bring the little young lady, and old Nance will have some pretty stories ready for you.'

So the three boys bade her good evening and set off homewards, Bob accompanying them a part of the way, talking eagerly to Justin about the ferret scheme they were so full of.

Pat was very silent.

'What are you thinking about?' said Justin, when Bob had left them. 'You seem half asleep, both you and Archie.'

'I was thinking about old Nance,' said Pat; 'she's awfully queer.'

'Yes,' Archie agreed. 'I like her and I don't like her. At least I felt to-night as if I were a little afraid of her.'

'Rubbish,' said Justin. 'That's Pat putting nonsense in your head. If you're going to stuff him with all your fancies, Pat, I'd rather you didn't come with us.'

Archie turned upon him.

'That's not fair of you, Jus,' he said indignantly. 'I think Pat's been very good-natured this evening. And if I were he I wouldn't give you any money for those ferrets if you spoke like that.'

This reminder was not lost upon Justin.

'Pat's all right,' he said. 'He wants the little beasts too, don't you, Pat?' turning to him.

Pat murmured something, though not very clearly, to the effect that he didn't mind, Jus was welcome to the money. Then another thought struck Archie.

'I say!' he exclaimed. 'I wonder if it's true about Miss Mouse coming to have lessons with Miss Ward? That'd mean her being at our house every day.'

'We shouldn't see much of her,' said Justin, 'we'd be at the vicarage. So we needn't bother about it. It wouldn't interfere with us.'

'Bother about it!' repeated Archie. 'I think it would be rather nice. I like her. But we'd have to leave off racketing about so, I suppose. She did look frightened once or twice this afternoon.'

'Perhaps it would be a good thing,' said Pat. 'I don't think we were like what we are now, when Aunt Mattie was with us, and yet nobody could say that she would like boys to be muffs.'

'Speak for yourself,' said Justin. 'There's always been one muff among us, and that's you!'

It was too dark for Pat's face to be seen, and he controlled himself not to reply. It was easier to do so as he was, to confess the truth, feeling not a little pleased with himself for his good-nature to his elder brother.

'I'm sure Aunt Mattie would think I'd done my best this evening,' he thought; 'Justin hasn't been a bit nicer and I've not answered him back once, and I really will give him the money for the ferrets, though I'm sure I never want to see the nasty little beasts. I don't mind them so much if they're kept down at old Nance's, for then when Justin goes to see them I can go too and make old Nance tell me some of her queer stories.'

For Pat was very much fascinated by the old woman and her talk – more than he quite knew indeed. He put down the whole of his amiability to Justin to his wish to follow his aunt's good advice.

Justin was struck by Pat's forbearance.

'What's coming over him?' he said to himself, 'I've never known him so good-tempered before.'

Archie noticed it too, as he had already done earlier in the afternoon, and he was not afraid to say so.

'You're really too bad, Jus,' he exclaimed. 'Pat's far too patient. If I were he I wouldn't stand it.'

This gave Pat great satisfaction, for though he seemed unsociable and morose he was really very sensitive to other people's opinion of him, and eager for approval.

'Don't you meddle,' said Justin. 'Pat and I can manage our affairs without you. We're both older than you, remember.'

But before Archie had made up his mind what to reply, the threatening quarrel was put a stop to by an unexpected diversion. They had by this time left the moor and were making their way home by a little lane which skirted their own fields, across which it was not always easy to make one's way in the dark. A few yards ahead of them this lane ran into the road, and just at this moment, to their surprise, they caught sight of a carriage driving slowly away from Moor Edge.

'What can that be?' said Justin. 'It's the fly from the station, I'm almost sure. I know it by the heavy way it trundles along.'

'I do believe,' said Archie joyfully, 'that it's papa and mamma come back without warning!'

His brothers did not seem equally pleased.

'If it is,' said Justin, 'we'll get into a nice scrape for being out so late. Run on, Archie, you're mamma's pet, and tell her we're just behind.'

Archie made no objection to this, he was not unused to being employed in this way, and when a few minutes later the elder boys entered the house, they found that their pioneer had done his work well.

Their mother was crossing the hall on her way upstairs when she caught sight of them coming in by a side door; Archie was beside her, laden with bags and rugs.