carrysacks
down
our
cellar
stairs
.
Had
he
contented
himself
with
a
courteous
refusal
,
my
sympathies
,
I
own
,
would
have
been
with
him
,
for
the
stairs
are
mediæval
in
their
uncompromising
inconvenience
,
their
gratuitous
dangerousness
.
But
the
coal-man
did
not
stop
at
that
,
and
when
I
came
on
the
scene
Chloe
,
with
tears
of
pure
rage
in
her
eyes
,
and
in
the
low
,
sweet
voice
that
is
always
lowest
and
sweetest
when
she
is
most
furious
,
was
ordering
him
out
.
And
he
was
explaining
,
in
detail
,
what
he
would
be
if
he
would
go
before
he
was
ready
.
So
I
turned
him
out
.
Chloe
would
have
made
an
epic
of
this
.
I
suppose
cutting
down
dead
trees
is
manly
work
,
and
I
certainly
did
that
.
Also
I
sawed
them
into
lengths
proportioned
to
the
wood-basket
.
But
Chloe
always
sat
on
the
bough
to
keep
it
steady
,
so
sawing
cannot
count
as
mere
man
's
work
.
Rabbit-catching
sounds
manly
enough
,
but
Chloe
was
in
that
too
,
more
or
less
.
The
incident
which
led
to
the
rabbiting
was
,
however
,
my
show
entirely
,
and
I
confess
to
a
certain
pride
in
it
.
My
presence
of
mind
,
as
well
as
my
dramatic
ability
,
was
called
into
play
,
and
I
was
pleased
with
myself
on
both
counts
.
I
was
wandering
in
the
orchard
at
dusk
one
evening
,
pushing
through
the
long
grass
and
nettles
,
and
trying
to
fix
in
my
memory
the
way
of
the
growing
of
apple-boughs
for
the
ghost
's
next
illustration
.
The
mists
of
October
drifted
like
wraiths
among
the
trees
,
and
the
scent
of
wet
earth
had
mingled
with
itself
the
perfume
of
sadness
and
regret
and
memory
.
In
spring
the
wet
earth
smells
of
hope
and
joy
and
the
green
future
.
I
had
stood
in
contemplation
for
some
moments
before
the
golden-pippin
tree
,
and
was
really
beginning
to
know
its
gnarled
face
by
heart
,
when
I
heard
a
scratch
and
a
squeak
,
and
a
voice
said
,
“
Got
'
im
!
”
I
moved
cautiously
round
my
tree
.
In
the
open
space
beyond
the
orchard
the
wild
rabbits
have
made
their
burrows
,
and
here
,
grouped
round
one
of
the
rabbit-holes
,
were
two
men
,
three
dogs
,
a
boy
,
and
several
ferrets
—
the
last
in
bags
.
I
was
still
unseen
.
I
reflected
.
If
I
called
on
these
rabbit-thieves
to
surrender
,
they
would
probably
decline
to
do
so
on
any
terms
.
Indeed
,
why
should
they
?
There
were
six
of
them
,
not
counting
the
ferrets
,
and
I
was
only
one
.
That
was
the
point
.
If
I
had
only
been
three
—
or
even
two
!
Could
I
not
be
two
,
or
even
three
?
How
could
it
be
done
?
Arithmetic
is
a
difficult
branch
of
science
.
I
reflected
again
.
The
men
had
killed
the
rabbit
,
replaced
the
net
over
the
hole
,
and
resumed
their
several
stations
at
the
mouths
of
other
burrows
.
The
dusk
was
falling
fast
.
I
crept
away
for
a
dozen
yards
.
Then
,
assuming
the
gruffest
voice
at
my
command
,
and
rolling
my
r
's
to
the
highest
pitch
,
I
cried
out
:
“
George
!
Fred
!
Dick
!
”
and
faintly
answering
in
a
tone
I
hoped
would
seem
to
come
from
a
distance
,
I
voiced
a
couple
of
shrill
,
“
Yes
,
sirs
”
;
then
with
my
stick
I
beat
madly
on
the
underbushes
and
,
rushing
forward
,
shouted
in
the
voice
of
my
uncle
's
old
Scotch
gardener
:
“
Heck
,
lads
;
forrard
wi
'
ye
!
We
've
gotten
the
rogues
the
noo
!
”
Had
one
of
the
rogues
been
a
Scot
—
but
,
no
,
all
were
good
Deptford-bred
ruffians
.
As
I
neared
them
,
shouting
,
“
Come
on
,
my
lads
—
come
on
!
”
my
rogues
fled
incontinently
,
followed
by
their
boy
and
their
dogs
,
leaving
to
me
,
as
prize
,
fifteen
rabbit-nets
,
five
ferrets
in
bags
,
and
one
in
a
burrow
.
This
last
came
out
presently
,
creeping
like
a
yellow
snake
,
and
looking
round
with
bright
eyes
and
ever-moving
head
for
his
master
.
I
captured
him
,
collected
the
nets
and
the
bagged
ferrets
,
and
went
back
,
chuckling
,
to
Chloe
.
A
well-worn
trick
,
but
a
good
one
—
a
relic
of
the
old
smuggling
days
,
a
preventive-officer
's
stratagem
.
I
deserve
no
credit
for
it
,
but
I
do
think
I
did
the
voices
well
.
This
is
all
by
way
of
prelude
to
our
rabbiting
.
We
housed
our
ferrets
in
the
stable
and
hung
the
nets
in
the
kitchen
.
And
it
was
Jim
who
suggested
,
one
Saturday
afternoon
when
the
October
sun
was
burnishing
the
coppery
leaves
of
our
beeches
,
and
gilding
the
little
quivering
hearts
that
hang
from
the
silver
birch
,
that
we
should
“
have
some
sport
.
”
Bates
was
invited
to
join
;
this
seemed
,
as
Yolande
said
,
only
his
due
as
a
professional
ferret
.
Our
tenant
came
with
him
.
Yolande
declined
to
join
the
glad
throng
.
“
I
think
it
's
cruel
,
”
she
said
,
shortly
.
“
But
you
eat
rabbit-pie
,
”
objected
Chloe
.
“
Yes
,
and
I
eat
mutton
chops
.
But
I
'm
not
a
butcher
.
”
“
It
's
very
exciting
sport
,
”
said
our
tenant
.
“
And
we
shall
probably
catch
nothing
.
”
“
Then
does
n't
that
make
your
sport
silly
in
fact
as
well
as
cruel
in
aspiration
?
”
“
Do
come
!
”
he
said
.
“
You
can
sit
in
your
favorite
apple-tree
with
a
volume
of
moral
stories
,
and
cheer
us
on
by
your
presence
and
your
disapprobation
.
”
So
Yolande
established
herself
in
the
low
,
forked
bough
of
the
apple-tree
with
a
volume
of
Ruskin
.
“
As
near
to
moral
stories
as
I
can
get
,
”
she
told
our
tenant
.
But
she
sat
with
her
pretty
back
towards
the
scene
of
our
sport
,
and
refused
even
to
turn
her
head
and
look
at
us
.
Chloe
,
in
spite
of
my
warnings
,
was
eagerly
anxious
to
help
.
She
was
more
deft
than
any
of
us
in
staking
the
nets
over
the
holes
,
and
she
handled
the
ferrets
lovingly
,
because
they
loved
her
,
and
that
was
because
she
always
fed
them
.
We
had
no
dogs
and
no
guns
,
and
I
felt
guiltily
unsportsmanlike
.
At
last
all
was
ready
;
each
of
us
crouched
by
his
appointed
rabbit-hole
.
I
put
in
the
handsomest
ferret
;
he
disappeared
,
and
we
waited
results
in
silence
.
Now
and
then
we
bent
our
heads
to
listen
in
quite
a
professional
manner
,
as
though
we
had
been
real
poachers
,
for
some
sound
of
what
might
be
happening
underground
.
And
nothing
whatever
seemed
to
be
happening
.
We
grew
cramped
,
and
changed
our
positions
.
Yolande
heard
the
movement
and
called
out
,
with
insolent
triumph
,
“
Any
sport
?
”
Indignantly
we
all
said
,
“
Hush
!
”
and
the
weary
work
of
listening
began
again
.
Then
,
suddenly
,
just
as
hope
had
died
in
every
breast
,
there
was
a
rustle
underground
,
a
scamper-rush
,
a
piteous
little
scream
of
horror
and
fear
,
and
a
small
,
fat
gray
rabbit
bolted
out
of
the
earth
into
the
net
over
the
hole
where
Chloe
watched
.
She
had
it
in
her
arms
in
an
instant
.
Its
feet
were
caught
in
the
net
,
but
as
she
held
it
it
ceased
to
struggle
,
and
lay
paralyzed
against
her
bodice
.
“
Let
me
kill
it
,
mum
,
”
said
Bates
.
“
Or
would
you
like
to
,
mum
?
”
asked
Jim
,
kindly
.
“
It
was
your
rabbit
,
so
it
was
!
You
just
hold
it
up
by
the
ears
like
this
,
and
hit
it
a
crack
'
longside
o
'
the
head
with
the
edge
of
your
hand
—
so
—
”
But
Chloe
had
fled
,
still
clasping
the
rabbit
,
and
leaving
us
to
look
helplessly
at
each
other
.
“
Ladies
are
no
good
at
sport
,
”
said
Bates
,
philosophically
.
“
It
's
their
tender
hearts
,
bless
them
—
”
“
Missus
'
ll
let
it
loose
in
the
garden
,
I
should
n't
wonder
,
”
said
Jim
,
in
gloom
.
“
Better
luck
next
time
,
”
said
the
tenant
,
cheerfully
.
I
left
them
to
recover
the
ferret
and
arrange
another
siege
.
I
found
Chloe
by
the
white-parlor
fire
stroking
the
rabbit
,
as
it
lay
panting
and
wretched
on
her
knee
.
“
Well
,
spoil-sport
?
”
I
said
.
“
Oh
,
Len
,
how
could
you
—
how
could
you
let
me
?
You
knew
what
it
would
be
like
!
Oh
,
did
you
hear
it
scream
?
It
was
like
a
little
,
little
baby
that
some
one
was
hurting
!
Do
n't
go
back
to
them
.
Promise
me
you
'll
never
,
never
,
never
hunt
rabbits
again
!
”
I
shrugged
my
shoulders
.
“
I
told
you
you
would
n't
like
it
,
”
I
said
.
“
I
know
,
but
you
ought
to
have
beaten
me
and
locked
me
up
,
rather
than
let
me
go
!
I
did
n't
know
,
poor
,
poor
little
rabbity
!
I
did
n't
know
!
”
“
What
are
you
going
to
do
with
it
?
”
“
Keep
it
,
of
course
,
”
she
said
,
opening
her
eyes
.
“
Would
n't
it
be
happier
if
we
let
it
loose
again
in
the
orchard
?
”
“
For
some
other
ferret
to
go
after
?
Never
!
Fancy
running
for
your
life
with
a
long
,
crawling
horror
coming
after
you
in
the
black
dark
,
all
cruel
teeth
and
claws
,
and
just
when
you
think
you
are
safe
,
and
see
the
safe
,
green
,
light
world
outside
where
you
can
run
and
hide
,
you
rush
into
a
net
and
get
beaten
to
death
!
You
must
give
away
the
ferrets
!
You
must
!
I
wo
n't
bear
it
!
”
I
shrugged
my
shoulders
again
.
“
Anyway
,
”
I
said
,
“
the
rabbit
is
slowly
dying
of
fright
in
your
arms
.
He
does
n't
know
when
he
is
well
off
.
”
I
got
a
basket
and
some
cabbage
leaves
.
We
shut
in
the
rabbit
and
watched
him
through
the
cracks
of
the
basket
till
we
saw
him
recover
enough
to
nibble
.
“
Now
,
”
she
said
,
”
if
you
care
the
least
bit
about
me
you
'll
go
straight
back
to
those
hateful
people
and
tell
them
to
stop
.
Yolande
was
quite
right
.
She
nearly
always
is
.
”
I
admitted
that
in
this
case
Yolande
had
chosen
the
better
part
.
“
And
do
n't
bring
those
hateful
ferrets
back
.
I
do
n't
want
ever
to
see
them
again
.
”
“
But
what
am
I
to
do
with
them
?
”
“
I
do
n't
care
,
”
said
Chloe
,
with
almost
a
sob
;
”
anything
—
give
them
away
,
drown
them
,
strangle
them
.
”
“
Oh
,
Chloe
!
Chloe
!
”
I
said
,
“
your
own
little
ferrets
that
have
eaten
out
of
your
hand
and
climbed
round
your
neck
?
Drown
them
?
Strangle
them
?
Never
!
I
will
advertise
them
in
the
Bazar
and
Mart
in
exchange
for
goldfish
or
anything
useful
,
and
Bates
shall
keep
them
till
I
find
a
purchaser
.
”
“
All
right
,
”
she
said
,
impatiently
,
“
only
go
now
.
Go
!
Or
they
'll
have
killed
another
.
”
They
had
killed
three
.
The
soft
,
fluffy
bodies
lay
side
by
side
on
the
brown
turf
,
and
even
as
I
came
upon
the
scene
there
was
a
rustle
and
a
scream
—
I
thought
of
Chloe
,
and
I
hated
to
hear
it
—
and
next
moment
Yolande
—
yes
,
Yolande
herself
—
rose
from
beside
the
hole
with
a
live
rabbit
struggling
in
her
hands
among
meshes
of
net
.
“
Here
,
”
she
said
,
gently
disengaging
its
helpless
little
feet
from
the
netting
and
holding
it
tip
tenderly
by
the
ears
,
“
you
kill
it
,
Jim
.
I
think
you
do
it
quicker
than
the
others
.
And
that
makes
four
.
”
She
turned
her
back
on
the
executioner
and
met
my
eyes
.
“
Yolande
,
”
I
cried
,
“
this
cruel
sport
—
”
“
It
's
not
really
cruel
,
”
she
protested
,
“
and
it
's
very
exciting
.
I
'd
rather
die
like
that
myself
than
die
slowly
of
starvation
when
I
got
too
old
to
go
out
after
my
food
.
That
's
the
end
of
wild
animals
,
you
know
,
if
we
do
n't
eat
them
.
Is
n't
it
?
”
She
appealed
almost
abjectly
from
me
to
the
tenant
,
who
said
,
“
That
's
so
!
”
And
I
knew
she
was
rehearsing
those
arguments
by
which
he
had
drawn
her
down
from
her
apple-tree
to
share
in
the
sport
.
“
I
'm
very
sorry
,
”
I
said
,
“
but
the
sport
is
now
over
.
My
wife
decrees
a
reprieve
to
the
rabbits
,
and
banishes
the
ferrets
.
Bates
,
I
wish
you
'd
cart
them
off
and
get
rid
of
them
somehow
.
”
The
sporting
party
exchanged
blank
glances
.
Yolande
's
was
the
only
comment
.
“
Well
!
”
she
said
.
Jim
and
Bates
collected
the
ferrets
in
a
silence
full
,
I
knew
,
of
disparaging
reflections
on
woman
's
folly
.
Yolande
and
the
tenant
stood
a
moment
talking
before
they
strolled
off
together
,
and
I
heard
him
asking
her
why
she
should
not
ride
out
on
her
bicycle
with
him
to
see
some
coursing
—
only
a
thirty-mile
ride
.
“
But
I
do
n't
think
I
do
approve
of
it
,
really
,
”
she
was
saying
,
“
not
when
I
'm
cool
and
collected
and
in
my
right
mind
—
”
“
But
you
will
not
be
cool
and
collected
when
you
see
the
first
hare
get
up
.
You
will
be
wild
with
excitement
.
You
'll
forget
everything
else
.
”
“
I
do
n't
know
that
I
want
to
.
”
“
Yes
,
you
do
;
you
do
n't
want
to
cultivate
nerves
.
If
you
do
n't
like
sport
—
well
,
it
's
simple
enough
,
and
half
the
best
women
there
are
do
n't
,
either
.
If
you
do
like
it
—
well
,
you
do
,
and
so
do
the
other
half
of
the
best
women
in
the
world
.
That
's
all
there
is
to
it
.
And
you
do
like
sport
.
Look
here
,
if
I
could
get
a
man
to
take
on
my
work
for
Tuesday
,
we
could
start
early
,
say
about
nine
.
Do
say
you
will
.
”
I
did
not
hear
what
she
said
,
for
they
had
strolled
off
down
the
path
that
leads
to
the
moat
,
and
when
next
I
saw
them
they
were
engineering
the
leaky
punt
under
the
middle
arch
of
the
old
bridge
.
Yolande
in
her
blue
cloth
and
fox
fur
was
standing
in
an
inch
and
a
half
of
water
,
and
hanging
on
to
a
muddy
punt-pole
;
the
tenant
was
instructing
her
.
Yolande
!
I
shrugged
my
shoulders
for
the
third
time
that
day
,
and
I
went
in
to
my
wife
.
She
was
sitting
by
the
fire
in
the
beech-wood
rocking-chair
,
singing
low
to
herself
;
the
song
sounded
like
“
Bye
,
baby
bunting
.
”
I
suppose
the
rabbit
put
it
into
her
head
.
I
never
regretted
that
rabbit
.
In
three
days
it
was
perfectly
tame
;
in
a
week
it
played
with
the
cats
and
sat
up
on
the
hearth-rug
,
unconcernedly
washing
its
face
.
At
the
end
of
a
fortnight
it
flopped
after
Chloe
,
in
and
out
,
up-stairs
and
down-stairs
,
like
a
small
and
very
plump
kangaroo
.
When
the
cats
grew
too
catty
in
their
play
the
rabbit
would
turn
round
and
use
his
deadly
hind
foot
.
They
presently
learned
to
respect
this
,
and
the
rabbit
was
master
of
the
hearth-rug
.
Yolande
went
to
see
that
coursing
,
I
believe
,
though
she
never
spoke
to
Chloe
of
it
.
And
she
listened
to
tales
of
tigers
from
the
tenant
—
more
tales
,
and
less
convincing
,
than
I
should
have
thought
any
Girton
girl
could
have
borne
.
She
also
learned
to
take
rose-cuttings
,
and
did
it
without
gloves
.
I
looked
on
in
a
frenzy
of
annoyance
,
which
I
hid
,
even
—
indeed
,
most
of
all
—
from
Chloe
.
The
tenant
is
a
man
of
ideas
—
but
I
never
heard
him
talk
anything
but
the
visible
—
concrete
to
Yolande
.
I
felt
a
horrid
suspicion
that
he
thought
her
a
bit
of
a
prig
,
and
that
he
was
actually
daring
to
try
to
“
form
her
”
;
the
audacity
took
my
breath
away
.
But
Yolande
was
placid
,
and
seemed
to
breathe
without
effort
.
Mindful
of
that
scorned
suggestion
of
my
wife
's
on
the
night
of
the
first
dinner-party
at
the
cottage
,
I
looked
straight
before
me
and
cultivated
an
air
of
seeing
nothing
.
I
sometimes
wondered
whether
Yolande
imagined
that
we
did
not
see
anything
,
or
whether
she
knew
we
saw
anything
,
and
did
not
care
,
or
whether
she
really
believed
that
there
was
nothing
to
see
.
She
had
arranged
,
as
usual
,
to
personally
conduct
three
model
young
persons
on
a
winter
tour
through
the
art
treasures
of
Italy
,
and
her
going
was
fixed
for
the
week
after
Christmas
.
She
had
some
private
pupils
,
and
went
up
to
struggle
with
them
two
or
three
times
a
week
,
but
for
the
most
part
she
was
with
us
.
And
I
was
glad
to
have
her
—
first
,
because
she
is
ever
a
sight
for
sore
eyes
,
and
secondly
,
because
I
began
to
see
that
I
did
not
want
either
to
give
up
my
ghost-fathered
pencil-work
,
nor
yet
,
for
some
obscure
reason
which
I
ca
n't
even
indicate
,
to
confess
to
Chloe
that
it
was
not
Yolande
,
but
I
,
who
had
tinkered
her
drawings
.
My
own
work
,
my
writing
,
grew
less
and
less
important
to
me
—
only
the
Weekly
Wilderness
still
commanding
the
service
of
habit
.
The
curious
change
whose
initial
throes
I
had
felt
when
first
we
came
to
the
Red
House
had
worked
in
Chloe
and
in
me
,
till
now
,
while
the
house
was
usually
tidy
to
distraction
,
Chloe
's
wardrobes
and
chests
were
in
the
wildest
confusion
.
“
I
know
,
”
she
said
one
day
,
when
I
opened
a
drawer
and
silently
confronted
her
with
a
swollen
mass
of
lace
,
ribbons
,
handkerchiefs
,
scarfs
,
bead
necklaces
,
letters
,
collars
,
wristbands
,
brass-
headed
nails
,
and
the
long-lost
hammer
,
all
inextricably
tangled
up
with
the
ball
of
twine
I
had
been
looking
for
—
“
I
know
.
You
see
,
it
is
so
important
to
keep
the
house
tidy
—
and
I
do
tidy
up
.
”
“
You
do
,
indeed
,
”
I
said
,
fishing
up
from
the
bottom
of
the
drawer
the
penknife
that
I
had
missed
since
last
Tuesday
week
.
“
Oh
,
I
am
so
sorry
.
But
I
do
forget
so
where
things
are
.
”
“
Now
,
I
do
n't
.
I
never
tidy
up
,
but
I
always
know
where
to
find
my
pencils
,
and
I
'm
never
in
any
doubt
as
to
where
I
put
the
India
rubber
.
”
“
What
do
you
want
with
India
rubber
,
anyhow
?
”
she
asked
,
and
I
trembled
for
my
secret
.
“
I
meant
that
you
are
,
”
I
said
,
feebly
.
“
Perhaps
,
”
she
said
,
“
if
you
would
tidy
up
a
little
sometimes
,
I
could
keep
the
insides
of
things
tidier
.
Let
's
have
a
grand
clearing
up
now
,
this
instant
minute
,
and
then
I
really
will
try
!
I
must
learn
to
be
tidy
,
Len
,
before
I
'm
too
old
to
learn
anything
.
”
We
did
have
a
grand
clearing
up
,
beginning
with
that
corner
drawer
.
When
all
was
neat
—
the
scarfs
folded
,
the
ribbons
rolled
,
the
handkerchiefs
restored
to
the
historic
handkerchief-case
—
I
tried
the
other
drawer
.
It
was
locked
.
“
Oh
,
that
's
tidy
,
”
she
hastily
assured
me
.
“
What
's
in
it
?
”
I
asked
,
idly
.
“
Oh
,
nothing
much
—
only
little
things
.
I
'll
show
you
some
day
when
we
've
nothing
to
do
but
to
be
kind
to
each
other
.
Now
we
'll
go
and
clear
out
the
sideboard
cupboards
and
all
the
rest
of
it
.
”
We
did
.
We
found
many
things
—
the
lost
corkscrew
and
the
button-hook
and
the
Nineteenth
Centuries
that
were
missing
.
It
took
us
all
day
,
and
when
it
was
done
there
was
a
place
for
nearly
everything
,
and
everything
that
had
a
place
was
in
it
.
The
residue
loomed
hateful
on
a
tray
in
the
hall
—
odd
stoppers
,
screws
,
knobs
,
handles
of
knives
,
curtain
rings
—
all
the
litter
that
has
no
place
and
that
one
cannot
bear
to
throw
away
.
We
looked
at
it
in
despair
.
Then
I
caught
up
the
tray
.
“
Come
,
light
of
my
eyes
,
”
I
cried
,
exulting
;
“
there
is
only
one
thing
that
we
need
—
a
lumber-room
.
We
toiled
joyously
to
the
top
of
the
house
,
I
with
the
tray
and
Chloe
with
the
little
copper
coal-scuttle
whose
broken
handle
we
meant
to
get
mended
when
we
could
afford
it
.
We
chose
a
fair-sized
room
,
out
of
the
many
disused
ones
,
opened
the
shutters
,
and
dumped
down
our
treasures
on
the
floor
.
Our
old
tendency
to
furnish
one
room
at
the
expense
of
another
came
irresistibly
sistibly
upon
us
,
and
we
ransacked
the
house
,
carrying
off
to
the
lumber-room
everything
we
could
possibly
not
want
.
The
house
looked
very
bare
when
we
had
done
,
and
for
weeks
I
found
myself
toiling
up
those
stairs
in
search
of
some
necessary
for
one
of
us
which
the
other
had
confiscated
as
“
rubbish
”
—
but
we
certainly
had
a
most
impressive
lumber-room
.
“
And
now
,
”
said
my
wife
,
looking
round
with
pride
,
“
clearing
up
will
be
simply
a
pleasure
.
”
Yolande
was
severe
as
ever
when
she
came
back
from
watching
a
foot-ball
match
at
the
Rectory
Field
,
and
found
us
,
very
dirty
and
very
happy
,
resting
on
the
stairs
.
“
Dear
Babes
in
the
Wood
,
”
she
said
,
“
did
they
invent
a
new
,
pretty
game
to
waste
their
time
on
?
”
“
I
'd
rather
waste
my
time
at
a
game
I
can
play
than
one
I
can
only
look
on
at
,
”
said
I
,
severely
.
“
Sit
down
;
there
are
plenty
of
stairs
.
”
“
Thank
you
.
As
to
games
,
c'est
selon
,
”
she
said
,
unfastening
her
furs
.
“
By-the-way
,
before
I
go
to
southern
climes
I
should
like
to
render
an
account
of
my
stewardship
.
I
'll
write
it
down
.
Give
me
a
pencil
,
somebody
,
and
the
back
of
an
envelope
.
”
She
wrote
busily
for
some
time
,
then
handed
ed
the
paper
to
Chloe
,
who
took
it
in
her
little
grimy
hand
and
read
aloud
:
“
SUCCESSES
AND
FAILURES
OF
AN
AMATEUR
AGENT
“
1.
Getting
one
good
servant
to
keep
her
situation
by
letting
her
keep
her
husband
in
it
.
“
2.
Letting
cottage
to
ferret
at
£
15
a
year
.
“
3.
Getting
the
Prosser
rat
turned
out
.
“
4.
Letting
other
cottage
for
£
35.
“
5.
Dyeing
fruit-thief
(
a
failure
)
.
“
6.
Letting
garden
and
orchard
to
market
gardener
for
£
20
a
year
and
as
much
fruit
and
vegetables
as
you
require
.
“
Yolande
,
you
never
have
!
”
She
rose
and
bowed
.
“
Go
on
,
”
she
said
;
and
Chloe
,
merely
pausing
to
embrace
her
,
went
on
:
“
7.
Letting
small
cottage
to
foreman
of
market
gardener
for
£
17
a
year
.
“
Oh
,
Yolande
,
this
is
too
much
!
You
really
are
a
genius
!
And
only
one
failure
.
”
“
And
that
was
half
a
success
,
”
said
I
.
“
Oh
,
Yolande
,
what
a
glorious
baking
of
beautiful
pies
!
And
yet
you
said
you
would
never
have
a
finger
in
any
pie
again
.
”
“
I
ca
n't
help
it
,
”
she
pleaded
.
”
I
was
born
to
it
.
Give
me
another
envelope
—
no
,
not
one
with
so
many
post-marks
—
and
I
'll
make
a
brief
financial
statement
.
”
She
scribbled
again
.
This
is
what
she
wrote
:
By
1
ferret
's
rent
£
15
"
1
large
cottage
rent
35
"
1
small
"
"
17
"
1
garden
20
"
1
uncle
deceased
200
Stories
,
output
and
price
estimated
on
past
6
months
160
Illustrations
on
past
3
months
187
Total
£
634
“
There
's
your
yearly
income
!
How
's
that
for
high
?
”
she
asked
,
flashing
a
glance
of
triumph
at
us
.
We
had
known
well
enough
that
our
income
was
increasing
,
that
we
no
longer
had
,
as
Chloe
said
,
to
look
all
round
every
shilling
.
We
had
told
Yolande
,
gleefully
,
the
amount
of
every
check
we
had
received
.
But
we
had
kept
no
accounts
.
She
had
.
We
all
three
fell
into
each
other
's
arms
,
or
something
very
like
it
.
“
You
shall
have
that
book
of
Beardsley
drawings
for
a
Christmas
present
,
Len
,
”
said
my
wife
,
“
and
Yolande
shall
have
a
gold
horseshoe
brooch
with
turkisses
in
it
,
as
becomes
a
sporting
lady
.
”
“
It
would
n't
become
a
bailiff
and
house
agent
,
”
said
Yolande
.
“
Never
mind
.
You
shall
have
a
bangle
with
a
double
dangling
heart
—
ours
—
and
an
inscription
inside
that
would
get
you
a
situation
anywhere
.
And
Chloe
shall
have
—
”
I
stopped
.
“
What
,
Len
?
”
“
A
very
beautiful
present
,
indeed
.
Something
we
never
thought
we
'd
have
.
No
,
I
wo
n't
tell
you
.
It
's
going
to
be
a
surprise
.
”
Yolande
had
taken
off
her
veil
,
folded
it
very
carefully
,
and
driven
three
little
turquoise-headed
pins
through
it
.
Now
she
said
,
“
I
'm
beginning
to
think
that
surprises
are
the
best
things
in
life
—
especially
when
one
surprises
one
's
self
.
”
“
Have
you
surprised
yourself
lately
?
”
Chloe
asked
,
picking
up
the
rabbit
by
its
ears
.
It
had
followed
her
,
as
usual
.
“
Very
much
.
”
I
held
my
breath
.
The
very
cigarette
trembled
in
my
dusty
fingers
.
Could
it
be
that
already
that
tenant
had
taught
Yolande
to
be
surprised
at
herself
?
A
sigh
of
relief
broke
from
me
as
she
went
on
:
“
I
am
absolutely
astounded
—
and
charmed
too
,
of
course
—
at
my
own
cleverness
.
But
all
this
is
a
swan-song
.
I
shall
have
my
finger
in
no
more
pies
—
for
good
or
ill.
My
career
of
usefulness
is
at
an
end
.
Henceforth
I
shall
be
a
female
fogy
;
never
a
pie
shall
be
the
worse
nor
the
better
for
me
.
I
shall
cram
young
geese
.
No
more
and
no
less
.
Mark
my
words
,
I
have
gone
up
like
the
rocket
,
and
like
the
stick
I
shall
come
down
—
if
I
have
not
already
.
”
She
took
off
her
hat
,
and
twisted
the
blue
velvet
and
fur
in
her
hands
.
“
Mine
is
indeed
a
dark
and
terrible
lot
!
”
she
said
,
smiling
brilliantly
at
us
.
Then
without
more
words
she
withdrew
.
Chloe
sighed
,
not
sadly
:
“
Poor
,
dear
Yolande
!
I
do
really
believe
she
does
n't
know
what
is
the
matter
with
her
.
”
“
And
what
is
?
”
I
ventured
.
“
Make
your
own
diagnosis
.
”
“
Yours
is
?
”
Silence
.
“
What
is
the
matter
with
her
?
”
“
Oh
,
nothing
!
Len
.
”
“
Well
?
”
“
I
think
I
'm
glad
.
”
“
What
of
?
”
“
About
her
.
”
“
What
about
her
?
”
“
Oh
,
do
n't
be
tiresome
!
”
“
What
,
do
words
fail
you
in
a
crisis
?
Mine
are
at
flood
.
”
“
No
,
do
n't
!
You
know
what
I
mean
.
”
“
I
understand
you
to
mean
that
you
rejoice
to
see
Othello
's
occupation
gone
.
You
are
glad
that
your
friend
has
renounced
her
dearest
pastime
and
will
finger
her
neighbors
'
pies
no
more
.
”
“
Dog
in
the
manger
!
”
said
my
wife
.
“
No
,
”
I
said
,
eagerly
.
“
I
'm
almost
sure
that
I
'm
not
quite
sorry
.
”
“
For
what
?
”
“
For
her
.
”
“
Why
should
you
be
?
”
“
Because
I
see
,
”
I
answered
,
slowly
,
“
what
you
mean
me
to
see
—
whether
she
knows
it
or
not
,
she
'll
soon
be
baking
her
own
pies
.
”
“
Yes
,
”
said
Chloe
;
“
she
'll
understand
then
.
”
“
Yes
,
”
said
I
;
“
one
understands
many
things
when
one
bakes
at
home
.
”
X
THE
INVADERS
“
UGH-R-R-R
!
”
I
remarked
,
as
we
sat
down
to
breakfast
.
“
I
suppose
it
is
,
”
said
Chloe
,
pretending
to
shiver
.
“
The
Bandbox
was
warmer
,
certainly
,
but
not
much
.
Why
do
people
make
so
much
fuss
about
being
too
cold
and
too
hot
?
Is
n't
it
odd
that
they
've
never
found
out
the
great
truth
—
that
one
has
to
be
cold
in
the
winter
and
hot
in
the
summer
?
And
if
one
has
to
be
cold
,
how
much
warmer
it
is
to
be
cold
here
than
in
the
Bandbox
!
”
“
You
mean
that
great
possessions
warm
the
cockles
o
your
heart
,
”
I
said
;
“
that
's
because
you
're
all
soul
.
As
for
me
,
I
must
warm
my
hands
in
the
tea-cozy
before
I
can
carve
the
eggs
.
”
The
white
parlor
,
with
its
dark-panelled
walls
,
its
olive-green
curtains
,
its
sparkling
brass
and
silver
,
and
nothing
white
about
it
save
the
ceiling
ing
and
the
table-cloth
,
was
a
delightful
picture
of
a
breakfast-room
.
Chloe
's
loose
gown
of
turquoise-colored
soft
stuff
with
its
brown
furry
trimmings
became
her
to
distraction
.
I
told
her
so
.
“
But
the
tip
of
your
pretty
nose
is
pink
,
”
I
said
.
“
It
was
quite
white
—
with
rage
,
I
believe
—
the
day
you
bit
me
so
about
my
shaving-brush
.
Do
you
remember
?
And
then
the
letter
came
enclosing
the
Red
House
and
all
our
affluence
!
You
had
on
some
muslin
thing
that
day
—
”
She
shivered
,
almost
in
earnest
this
time
,
and
poured
out
the
coffee
.
“
Do
n't
talk
of
muslin
!
”
she
said
.
“
Look
,
is
n't
it
fairyland
?
Only
it
's
a
little
hard
to
believe
that
our
green
garden
has
only
gone
to
sleep
,
and
means
to
wake
up
again
in
the
spring
.
”
A
light
veil
of
snow
lay
on
our
green
garden
now
,
and
on
the
thatched
roof
of
the
old
summer-house
and
on
the
sun-dial
's
face
,
whose
sentimental
expression
had
decided
my
wife
to
decide
me
to
decide
to
live
at
the
Red
House
.
The
snow
lay
in
sheets
,
like
cotton-wool
,
on
the
flat
tops
of
the
cedars
;
and
the
ivy
round
the
windows
,
the
creepers
on
the
old
arches
,
and
the
leaves
of
the
tall
box
hedge
were
all
outlined
in
sparkling
white
.
“
It
is
a
little
different
,
”
I
said
;
“
that
day
,
when
you
wore
—
well
,
I
wo
n't
,
then
—
and
we
had
haddock
for
breakfast
,
and
the
letter
came
.
By-the-way
,
my
hands
are
warm
enough
to
open
letters
now
.
”
There
were
only
two
.
One
was
a
bill
for
repairs
to
the
roof
—
the
roof
,
now
spread
with
snow
,
where
one
warm
,
wet
morning
we
had
fought
a
flood
with
brooms
and
a
dust-pan
;
a
bill
that
did
not
discompose
me
,
for
I
was
used
to
that
roof
.
No
living
plumber
could
make
its
repairs
permanent
.
The
other
letter
was
type-written
,
and
that
by
a
somewhat
inexperienced
hand
.
It
read
thus
:
Junior
Blackheath
Society
of
Antiquaries
+
Field
Club
.
Dear
Sir
%
At
a
Meeting
of
the
Committe
of
thes
dg
Society
it
wasagreedt
that
a
field
day
should
.
)
be
held
on
Dec
20
when
the
Society
proposis
to
visit
the
interesting
church
of
(
x
)
Elmhurst
andalsotheold
Palace
they
call
Kin
(
gons
)
Johns
.
Our
president
MrAlbert
Morris
F
;
J.B.
,
S
!
has
ob
and
so
have
the
rest
of
us
.
tained
permission
to
fo
out
on
that
day
/
We
venture
to
ask
whether
you
would
allowthe
members
of
the
Cociety
to
walk
£
through
your
groundsa
nd
inspect
from
without
of
course
your
beauriful
house
,
which
is
as
you
are
doubtless
aware
of
?
great
ihstoric
interest
having
been
½
for
some
years
.
We
feel
sure
it
was
the
7
;
residence
of
the
celebrated
amn
you
know
who
I
mean
.
We
hope
if
the
frost
ohlds
you
will
not
mind
us
skating
on
yuor
moat
.
I
;
am
dear
Sir
,
Yours
faithfully
,
Edward
Turnbull
Hon.
Sec.
P
%
S¼
Please
excuse
mistakes
%
ihave
not
learned
the
typewriter
properyl
yet
.
Such
was
the
letter
.
The
more
obvious
orthographical
errors
had
been
carefully
corrected
with
blue
pencil
,
but
,
even
so
,
the
document
was
a
remarkable
one
.
Chloe
read
it
,
taking
absent
bites
at
her
buttered
toast
.
“
Mad
?
”
she
queried
,
calmly
.
“
I
do
n't
know
;
the
letter
's
very
conventionally
worded
,
except
in
one
or
two
odd
places
.
Is
it
possible
that
a
genuine
society
could
possibly
employ
such
a
ghastly
rough-sketch
of
a
typist
?
”
“
The
letter
's
not
signed
,
”
she
remarked
.
“
The
secretary
's
name
is
typed
as
well
as
the
rest
.
”
“
I
knew
a
solemn
ass
named
Turnbull
,
once
,
”
I
reflected
,
“
but
I
thought
he
'd
got
into
a
bank
somewhere
in
Kent
—
Tonbridge
or
Dartford
,
or
something
.
He
used
to
fool
around
with
brass
rubbings
and
dates
and
archæological
bores
—
”
“
I
expect
it
's
the
same
man
,
”
she
said
,
indifferently
.
“
But
we
do
n't
want
the
nasty
society
bothering
here
,
do
we
?
Write
and
tell
him
there
's
nothing
to
see
,
and
no
one
really
important
ever
lived
here
till
we
did
.
”
“
I
do
n't
know
,
”
I
said
.
“
I
wish
I
could
be
sure
.
Blackheath
seems
an
unlikely
place
for
it
.
If
we
were
Woolwich
,
now
,
that
simply
bristles
with
improving
societies
;
but
I
've
a
sort
of
idea
this
is
a
working-men
's
society
.
If
the
poor
beggars
have
got
a
holiday
on
purpose
,
and
are
really
interested
—
or
think
they
are
—
it
seems
a
bit
piggy
not
to
let
them
,
does
n't
it
?
We
can
keep
a
lookout
from
the
loafery
window
and
see
that
they
do
n't
get
into
any
mischief
.
They
only
want
to
look
at
the
house
‘from
the
outside.’
”
“
I
suppose
they
give
an
address
?
”
“
Yes
;
Morden
House
,
Blackheath
.
It
sounds
decent
.
I
'm
almost
certain
it
's
a
workman
's
club
.
I
'll
write
and
tell
them
they
can
come
.
You
do
n't
really
mind
?
”
“
I
'm
not
wholly
a
piggy-wig
.
But
that
letter
's
odd
,
all
the
same
.
Perhaps
it
's
from
a
gang
of
thieves
who
want
to
come
and
see
how
the
shutters
are
fastened
.
”
“
Well
,
they
ca
n't
see
that
from
the
garden
.
Madam
,
I
am
beginning
to
realize
that
I
am
a
proud
man
the
day
.
Think
of
our
position
six
months
ago
.
Who
would
have
wished
to
come
and
inspect
,
‘from
the
outside
,
of
course
,
’
our
late
lamented
Bandbox
?
And
now
we
are
lords
of
the
manor
,
holding
the
power
of
life
and
death
over
the
field-days
of
antiquarian
societies
.
”
“
What
I
do
n't
like
,
”
she
went
on
,
quite
unappeased
by
this
feudal
picture
,
“
is
that
about
the
skating
.
Why
should
antiquaries
want
to
skate
?
”
“
Now
to
me
,
”
I
rejoined
,
“
that
's
the
most
convincing
touch
of
all
.
Of
course
these
workmen
do
n't
often
get
a
holiday
,
and
they
want
to
make
the
most
of
it
.
‘If
the
frost
holds’
is
a
charming
touch
.
It
's
hardly
begun
yet
.
”
It
did
not
hold
.
I
signified
to
Mr.
Edward
Turnbull
my
gracious
consent
,
and
from
that
moment
the
snow
began
to
melt
,
and
the
weather
to
settle
itself
down
into
something
quite
as
warm
and
sunny
as
an
English
April
,
and
far
warmer
than
many
an
English
May
.
A
stray
furze-bush
or
two
at
the
end
of
our
paddock
broke
into
golden
flower
,
and
the
skylarks
sang
in
the
pale
blue
above
the
orchard
.
The
20th
was
a
day
of
cloudless
beauty
,
and
even
in
the
midst
of
my
mental
congratulations
to
the
members
of
the
Antiquarian
Society
on
their
royal
weather
,
I
found
room
for
a
pang
of
sympathy
pathy
for
those
among
them
who
might
have
had
their
skates
ground
.
I
recurred
again
that
day
,
I
remember
,
to
our
old
life
at
the
Bandbox
.
We
were
sitting
in
the
loafery
,
now
made
cosey
with
curtains
and
a
big
wood
fire
.
Chloe
sat
sewing
in
her
rocking-chair
.
She
had
had
some
verses
that
morning
,
and
,
bad
as
they
were
,
they
had
pleased
her
.
There
were
seven
stanzas
,
I
remember
.
The
first
two
were
quite
ordinary
,
and
the
other
five
got
sillier
and
sillier
,
till
at
the
end
they
were
a
mere
jingle
of
nonsense
—
a
sort
of
nursery
rhyme
,
mostly
written
in
the
“
little
language
.
”
The
poem
—
Chloe
really
did
call
it
a
poem
—
began
something
like
this
:
TO
CHLOE
AT
WORK
When
Chloe
sings
And
sews
and
swings
,
Rocked
in
her
guardian
angel
's
wings
;
When
with
dear
,
delicate
finger-tips
She
cuts
and
measures
,
sews
and
snips
;
—
Silent
I
worship
at
a
shrine
Lighted
for
me
,
and
warmed
for
mine
,
By
Chloe
's
eyes
and
lips
.
For
what
she
knows
,
And
what
she
sews
,
And
all
the
hope
that
grows
and
blows
About
her
sewing
,
twine
and
twist
,
And
veil
her
in
a
rainbow
mist
;
Until
I
rub
my
eyes
and
say
,
“
Oh
,
can
it
be
there
was
a
day
When
Chloe
was
unkissed
?
”
She
liked
it
all
,
even
the
nonsense
of
the
last
five
stanzas
,
and
she
said
that
she
liked
it
none
the
less
because
it
happened
to
be
written
on
the
backs
of
a
green-grocer
's
bill
,
the
voting-card
of
a
candidate
for
the
school
board
,
and
two
odd
envelopes
.
She
said
:
“
It
is
very
pretty
,
Len
.
I
did
n't
know
you
ever
noticed
whether
I
was
sewing
or
not
.
”
“
You
do
n't
know
my
observant
nature
,
”
I
said
,
“
and
after
all
these
years
of
married
life
,
too
.
”
“
It
's
more
than
one
year
,
anyway
,
”
she
said
.
“
Do
you
remember
the
day
when
you
made
me
decide
to
leave
the
dear
Bandbox
?
”
“
Shall
I
ever
forget
it
?
”
“
And
that
other
dear
day
when
you
invented
the
loafery
and
we
looked
at
the
bars
?
”
“
Let
's
look
at
them
now
,
”
she
cried
,
jumping
up
and
dropping
scissors
,
thimble
,
tapemeasure
,
and
a
mass
of
lace
and
muslin
.
When
I
had
picked
everything
up
we
went
to
the
window
.
The
creeper
's
leaves
were
gone
now
,
and
we
stood
between
dull
red
curtains
and
looked
out
on
the
misty
garden
,
where
the
dead
leaves
lay
,
patches
of
wet
gold
and
brown
in
the
faint
sunlight
,
and
where
a
robin
on
a
leafless
apple-tree
was
singing
his
very
best
,
and
pretending
to
the
rooks
in
the
elms
that
he
was
a
thrush
disguised
in
a
scarlet
waistcoat
.
“
Those
Antiquarian
brutes
,
”
I
said
,
presently
,
“
they
'll
be
here
directly
.
By
Jove
!
they
are
here
.
They
look
horribly
small
.
Can
it
be
that
the
Junior
Blackheath
only
admits
dwarfs
?
”
“
Those
ca
n't
be
the
Antiquaries
,
”
Chloe
cried
.
“
Why
,
Len
,
they
look
like
children
!
Lots
and
lots
of
them
.
What
can
they
want
?
They
look
like
a
slice
of
a
strayed
,
frayed
school
treat
.
And
they
've
all
got
books
,
and
they
do
n't
seem
to
have
got
any
grown-up
people
with
them
.
Oh
,
do
go
and
turn
them
out
!
”
“
I
'll
go
and
find
out
what
they
want
—
”
“
Oh
yes
,
and
they
'll
say
they
're
botanizing
,
or
geologizing
,
or
something
,
and
you
'll
let
them
stay
,
like
you
did
the
boys
that
wanted
conquerors
off
the
chestnut-trees
,
and
overran
everything
.
I
've
not
forgotten
it
;
I
'll
go
myself
.
”
She
ran
down
the
stairs
,
slipped
her
feet
into
the
wooden
sabots
that
she
keeps
for
sudden
winter
garden
excursions
,
and
stumped
off
angrily
down
the
path
under
the
cedars
.
I
took
a
short-cut
between
Jim
's
celery-trenches
.
Chloe
is
terrible
in
her
wrath
,
but
if
it
grows
too
hot
it
boils
over
in
tears
of
rage
;
and
I
did
not
wish
Chloe
to
cry
,
and
I
not
there
.
The
invaders
were
grouped
round
the
sundial
.
All
had
their
backs
to
us
,
and
one
of
them
was
reading
aloud
.
I
caught
a
few
words
:
“
...
.told
the
time
when
Charles
the
First
was
beheaded
,
and
recorded
the
death-devouring
progress
of
the
Great
Plague
and
the
Fire
of
London
.
There
is
no
doubt
the
sun
often
shone
even
in
those
devastating
occasions
,
so
we
may
picture
—
”
Then
the
reader
heard
the
unmistakable
threat
in
the
emphatic
stump
,
stump
of
Chloe
's
wooden
shoes
,
and
stopped
short
.
Her
eyes
were
angry
,
her
mouth
expressed
inhospitable
intentions
.
I
thought
I
heard
a
murmur
of
,
“
Oh
,
Crikey
!
”
from
the
reader
,
but
the
next
moment
he
had
stepped
towards
my
wife
and
taken
off
his
cap
with
an
oddly
graceful
flourish
.
He
was
a
boy
;
there
were
other
boys
,
who
followed
his
lead
in
cap-doffing
.
There
were
girls
,
too
,
rosy-faced
little
girls
in
highwayman
coats
and
scarlet
Tam-o'-Shanters
.
The
whole
invading
company
were
,
as
Chloe
had
said
,
“
children
.
”
And
all
wore
spectacles
.
“
Do
you
know
that
this
is
a
private
garden
?
”
said
Chloe
,
severely
.
“
You
are
trespassing
,
you
know
.
”
Her
voice
is
very
pretty
,
even
when
she
is
angry
,
and
she
was
not
nearly
so
angry
as
she
had
been
before
the
boys
took
their
caps
off
.
“
It
's
not
your
garden
,
is
it
?
”
asked
the
smallest
boy
of
all
,
goggling
at
her
through
his
spectacles
,
and
speaking
in
an
off-hand
but
perfectly
agreeable
manner
.
One
of
the
girls
shook
him
gently
,
and
bade
him
shut
up
.
“
We
're
most
awfully
sorry
,
”
said
the
boy
who
had
been
reading
.
“
We
would
n't
have
come
if
we
'd
thought
you
'd
mind
,
but
we
've
got
a
pass
,
so
I
thought
it
was
all
right
.
Here
,
hold
my
spectacles
half
a
sec.
,
Alice
,
and
I
'll
find
it
.
”
The
prettiest
of
the
red-capped
girls
took
the
spectacles
,
and
the
boy
felt
in
several
pockets
,
while
I
drew
near
to
offer
Chloe
my
moral
support
.
“
Here
it
is
!
”
he
said
,
at
last
,
disentangling
a
dingy
paper
from
a
mass
of
string
,
matches
,
envelopes
,
putty
,
and
cobbler
's
wax
,
and
,
with
really
a
rather
nice
bow
,
he
handed
to
Chloe
—
my
letter
to
the
Antiquarian
Society
!
“
But
this
was
not
meant
for
you
,
”
she
said
.
“
This
is
to
Mr.
Turnbull
—
”
“
That
was
my
fault
,
”
said
a
younger
boy
—
a
thin
,
pale
,
anxious-looking
child
.
“
We
tossed
up
who
should
copy
out
the
letter
on
Albert
's
uncle
's
type-writer
,
and
I
was
thinking
about
something
else
,
so
I
copied
it
,
name
and
all
.
”
Chloe
put
her
hands
to
her
head
with
a
gesture
of
despair
.
I
said
:
“
Just
think
a
minute
.
Remember
,
we
've
no
idea
what
all
this
is
about
.
Just
tell
us
,
right
away
from
the
beginning
,
how
you
came
to
be
here
,
and
what
you
want
.
”
There
was
a
silence
.
Then
the
eldest
girl
said
,
“
Oswald
,
you
tell
.
”
The
boy
who
had
been
reading
twisted
his
cap
,
and
stood
uneasily
on
one
foot
.
But
almost
at
once
he
planted
his
feet
firmly
on
the
ground
and
began
,
looking
Chloe
straight
in
the
eyes
with
a
most
disarming
frankness
.
“
First
of
all
,
we
are
very
sorry
the
lady
is
vexed
,
and
we
beg
her
pardon
.
”
“
That
's
all
right
,
”
said
Chloe
,
unexpectedly
.
“
Go
on
.
”
“
Well
—
when
we
were
staying
in
the
country
some
Antiquaries
wrote
to
Albert
's
uncle
—
this
is
Albert
”
—
he
pushed
forward
a
shy
boy
in
velvet
knickerbockers
—
“
and
asked
him
to
let
them
come
and
see
his
house
.
And
we
thought
we
should
be
feeling
a
bit
slack
in
the
holidays
,
so
we
thought
we
'd
play
at
being
antiquaries
.
And
Albert
's
uncle
showed
us
this
place
once
from
the
train
when
we
were
going
to
Bexley
Heath
,
and
he
said
some
great
person
lived
here
once
,
and
it
was
a
historic
place
,
and
we
ca
n't
remember
who
it
was
.
And
he
said
a
clever
writer
lived
here
now
,
and
he
told
us
the
name
.
So
we
wrote
to
ask
leave
to
come
,
and
you
gave
it
right
enough
.
”
The
voice
was
reproachful
.
“
Yes
,
”
I
said
,
completely
melted
by
this
unexpected
recognition
of
my
—
or
the
ghost
's
—
talent
as
a
writer
.
“
Are
you
Mr.
Edward
Turnbull
?
”
“
Rather
not
”
—
his
tone
was
somewhat
injured
.
“
I
was
coming
to
that
.
We
decided
to
copy
out
the
letter
that
the
real
Antiquity
secretary
sent
to
Albert
's
uncle
,
and
Noël
had
to
do
it
,
because
we
tossed
up
about
it
,
and
he
lost
.
And
he
got
thinking
of
a
poem
he
's
writing
,
and
copied
it
,
name
and
all
—
and
only
remembered
it
after
we
'd
licked
the
stamp
for
the
letter
.
So
we
thought
it
did
n't
matter
.
And
if
you
'd
rather
we
'd
been
Mr.
Turnbull
,
you
would
n't
have
if
you
'd
seen
how
thin
his
legs
are
,
and
how
he
could
n't
laugh
because
his
mouth
was
so
tight
.
”
“
I
'd
much
rather
have
you
,
”
said
Chloe
,
smiling
ing
;
and
as
she
smiled
I
could
see
how
deeply
all
present
fell
in
love
with
her
on
the
instant
.
“
I
'm
sorry
I
did
n't
understand
.
We
wo
n't
interfere
any
more
.
You
'd
like
to
go
on
reading
your
papers
.
Who
wrote
them
?
”
“
We
've
each
done
one
,
”
said
the
eldest
girl
—
she
was
a
little
prim
,
and
not
so
pretty
as
the
others
—
”
only
mine
is
all
out
of
a
book
,
because
it
is
so
difficult
to
think
of
things
.
”
“
Do
you
always
wear
spectacles
?
”
I
asked
.
They
all
laughed
.
It
was
a
very
pleasant
sound
,
this
peal
of
young
laughter
in
our
old
garden
.
“
Oh
no
!
”
said
the
prettiest
girl
,
“
only
to
make
us
look
like
learned
antiquities
—
antiquaries
,
I
mean
.
It
was
an
awful
bother
collecting
them
all
;
some
of
them
have
no
glass
in
.
”
“
One
more
question
,
”
I
said
.
“
If
you
're
not
Edward
Turnbull
,
who
are
you
?
”
“
We
're
the
Bastables
,
”
the
biggest
boy
said
,
with
a
sort
of
shy
pride
,
as
if
he
were
confessing
,
in
his
modesty
's
despite
,
to
royal
lineage
.
“
I
'm
Oswald
,
and
these
are
Alice
and
Dora
;
Noël
's
the
one
who
typed
the
letter
;
and
this
shaver
is
H.O.
;
and
these
are
Daisy
and
Denny
Foulkes
;
and
Albert
Morrison
I
told
you
about
before
.
”
“
You
'll
have
lunch
with
us
,
wo
n't
you
?
”
asked
Chloe
,
abruptly
,
picking
up
her
blue
train
and
fixing
her
feet
in
her
wooden
shoes
.
“
I
do
n't
think
there
'll
be
much
,
but
we
can
make
out
with
bread
and
jam
—
”
“
I
like
you
,
”
said
the
smallest
boy
,
before
the
others
could
answer
.
“
I
like
you
very
much
,
indeed
,
and
I
'll
have
lunch
with
you
,
whatever
it
is
.
”
The
others
murmured
thanks
,
and
we
left
them
to
their
play
.
“
Are
n't
they
perfect
dears
?
”
said
Chloe
,
when
we
were
out
of
earshot
.
“
I
do
n't
like
the
Morrison
boy
,
but
the
others
are
lovely
.
Why
are
n't
all
children
nice
?
”
“
They
all
are
—
if
they
have
nice
grown-ups
belonging
to
them
,
”
I
said
,
enunciating
lightly
a
tremendous
dogma
.
“
But
,
darling
and
reckless
one
,
do
you
know
that
there
's
nothing
in
the
house
but
cold
neck
of
mutton
,
and
even
that
,
if
I
remember
right
,
is
invidiously
distinguished
as
being
not
the
best
end
?
”
“
I
know
,
”
she
said
;
“
but
you
must
go
up
to
Elmhurst
and
get
things
:
tinned
tongue
—
children
always
adore
tongue
—
and
candied
pineapple
and
tangerine
oranges
in
silver
paper
,
and
nuts
,
and
bananas
.
Oh
,
I
do
think
children
are
so
nice
!
I
wish
these
were
n't
so
big
.
The
smallest
boy
,
the
one
they
call
H.O.
,
he
's
simply
a
duck
.
”
“
Oswald
for
my
money
,
”
said
I
,
“
and
Alice
!
Make
a
list
of
what
I
'm
to
get
,
and
I
'll
be
off
.
It
's
half-past
twelve
now
.
”
I
left
Chloe
laying
the
table
for
eleven
in
the
white
parlor
.
When
I
came
back
the
cloth
was
spread
,
but
Chloe
had
vanished
.
I
found
her
in
the
garden
submerged
to
the
shoulders
in
a
wave
of
children
,
and
she
carried
nine
pairs
of
spectacles
in
her
hand
.
We
all
went
in
to
lunch
.
I
was
now
a
mere
outsider
.
Chloe
,
by
some
art
unknown
to
me
,
had
become
one
of
the
children
,
and
was
the
most
childlike
child
of
all
.
The
others
really
were
not
bad
children
.
I
do
n't
think
I
ever
met
any
so
full
of
enthusiastic
energy
.
As
a
permanency
,
they
might
have
been
a
little
wearing
,
for
,
strong
in
Chloe
's
extraordinary
assumption
of
esprit
de
corps
,
they
now
threw
away
all
shyness
,
and
talked
to
us
with
simple
directness
of
adventures
,
of
contemporary
literature
,
of
the
ways
of
Providence
,
and
their
own
vital
ambitions
.
They
had
a
very
full
flow
of
conversation
,
and
a
much
larger
vocabulary
than
I
remember
having
at
their
age
.
What
struck
me
most
was
their
confident
assumption
that
,
now
we
knew
them
,
we
could
not
help
liking
them
;
and
the
assumption
was
,
I
own
,
justified
.
This
assumption
was
particularly
marked
in
Oswald
.
He
evidently
thought
a
good
deal
of
himself
,
but
,
as
I
could
not
but
reluctantly
acknowledge
,
with
some
justice
!
They
were
extremely
“
free
in
their
talk
,
”
as
Mary
said
afterwards
,
but
never
vulgar
.
And
they
were
very
much
funnier
than
they
meant
to
be
.
The
lunch
,
for
which
Chloe
had
madly
brought
out
the
best
green-and-gold
table-centre
,
charmed
them
.
I
had
not
thought
that
Chloe
could
be
so
thoroughly
inspired
with
any
menu
.
When
no
one
could
eat
any
more
,
the
children
looked
at
each
other
,
and
Dora
,
the
prim
one
,
said
,
quite
unconscious
of
the
evidence
of
rehearsal
with
which
her
speech
bristled
,
“
Thank
you
very
much
for
letting
us
come
,
and
for
having
us
to
lunch
.
”
“
And
for
getting
such
a
jolly
lunch
,
”
said
the
pale
boy
.
“
I
think
it
is
splendid
.
If
you
will
give
me
a
piece
of
paper
and
a
pencil
I
will
write
you
a
piece
of
poetry
about
it
.
”
While
I
was
getting
these
I
heard
the
prim
child
say
anxiously
to
Chloe
:
“
I
hope
you
do
n't
mind
.
He
will
do
it
.
We
ca
n't
stop
him
.
”
“
It
comes
of
his
having
bronchitis
so
often
,
I
think
,
”
said
the
stout
child
they
called
H.O.
“
It
is
n't
really
his
fault
.
”
There
was
an
awkward
pause
while
the
pale
child
sucked
my
pencil
and
rolled
his
eyes
.
He
made
the
most
shocking
grimaces
I
ever
saw
,
but
when
Chloe
turned
anxiously
to
Oswald
,
he
said
,
“
It
's
all
right
;
he
's
not
ill
;
it
's
only
the
poetry
working
out
of
him
.
”
Presently
he
stopped
writing
,
folded
the
paper
very
small
,
and
said
suddenly
and
earnestly
,
“
Have
you
got
a
secret
staircase
here
?
”
We
owned
our
indigence
in
this
respect
.
“
We
have
at
the
Moat
House
,
”
he
said
.
“
Have
you
explored
your
house
thoroughly
?
”
“
Yes
,
I
think
so
,
”
said
Chloe
,
with
a
glorious
inspiration
,
adding
,
“
but
you
may
explore
it
if
you
like
.
Do
n't
make
too
much
hay
,
that
's
all
!
Off
you
go
!
”
Noël
pressed
the
paper
into
Chloe
's
hand
and
they
rushed
from
the
room
,
and
as
they
went
I
heard
the
words
“
jolly
good
sort
.
”
I
drew
a
long
breath
.
“
What
a
whirlwind
!
”
I
said
.
“
Children
do
make
a
difference
in
a
house
,
”
said
Chloe
,
wistfully
.
“
They
do
,
”
I
said
,
kissing
her
ears
,
“
all
the
difference
.
”
She
gave
me
a
doubtful
glance
.
“
My
dear
little
old
wife
,
”
I
said
,
“
