t you cut them all
down? They're quite dead, aren't they?'

'No, indeed,' replied Miss Amabel briskly; 'they'll all come to life
again next spring.'

'Is spring Easter that Mr. Bob was telling us about?'

'Yes, Easter comes in spring.'

'And does everything dead come to life in spring?'

'A good many things in the garden do,' said Miss Amabel carelessly.

'Why does God make winter in England, and not in India? Is He angry with
the people in England?'

'Bless the boy! What a curiosity-box! Keep your questions for Aunt
Sibyl--she will appreciate them. And as for winter, I couldn't do
without it, for there would be no hunting then, and I should feel half
my enjoyment gone in life.'

'Do you like winter, Aunt Am'bel?' asked Olive.

'Yes, I love it; and so will you when you become hardy and rosy, like
English boys and girls!'

The children looked very doubtful at this statement, but did not dispute
it.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER II

Under the Earth

The next day was still colder, but the children, in company with their
nurse, found a delightful retreat in the garden, and this was in the
conservatory. James, the old gardener, was always glad of some one to
talk to, and he and nurse were soon fast friends. He took them into the
vinery, then into the fern house, and lastly into the conservatory next
the house, which was a brilliant mass of bloom and blossoms.

Olive clapped her hands in delight.

'We are back in India, Roly. Oh, how nice and warm!'

'We will always come and play here,' said Roland. Then, looking up at
the old gardener, he said,--

'You never let winter come here, do you?'

'Not if I can help it,' said James with a dry chuckle. 'Me and Jack
Frost have had many a fight, but I gets the better of him generally.'

'Who is Jack Frost?'

'Ha! ha! Not heerd o' Jack Frost? Well, unless I'm much mistaken he'll
pay us a visit to-night, and then you'll feel him as well as see him.'

Olive looked puzzled, but Roland's mind was working too busily to heed
Jack Frost. He walked round and round the flowers, then he remarked
abruptly, 'If you don't have winter here, you won't have a Easter--Mr.
Bob said so!'

'Oh, there!' said nurse with a laugh, 'don't heed his curious talk, Mr.
Jenkins; he's such a dreadful child for arguing.'

She and James continued their chat, and the children sat down on a low
wicker seat, playing with the fallen fuchsia buds, and comparing their
present life with the