ponded Roland
thoughtfully, 'nor lilies buried in flower-pots. If they had, they would
like Easter quite as much as he does.'

CHAPTER III

Signs of Life

[Illustration: T]

The winter came on. The days grew darker and colder, and the children
were loth to leave their nursery with its warm fire, and sally out into
the cold December air for their constitutional walk with nurse. Only the
thought of old Bob at the lodge kept their spirits up, and if they were
allowed to have a word or two with him occasionally, their walks were
more cheerfully taken. The conservatory was their chief joy, and often
would they steal down from the nursery, and be found by one of their
aunts comfortably established with their toys and picture-books in a
corner of it.

'I never thought Indian children would hate the winter so much as these
two mites do,' said Miss Hunter one evening at dinner; 'they seem to
look upon it as a regular curse. I should have thought the very novelty
would have attracted them.'

'They seem to have such ridiculous theories about it,' said Miss Hester.
'I fancy Bob has been stuffing their heads with his gloomy views.'

'I always think Bob looks as happy as can be,' put in Miss Amabel
briskly. 'I don't think the children were prepared for the barrenness
and dreariness of an English winter. They have come from the land of
brilliant flowers and sunshine, and naturally feel the difference.'

'Yes,' remarked Miss Sibyl gently. 'They told me this afternoon, when I
found them in the conservatory, that they were pretending it was summer.
And Roland added shrewdly, "You see, Aunt Sibyl, James shuts out the
winter in here, doesn't he? And so he makes it easy for us to forget it.
We pretend there is no cold, and no dead trees and flowers and graves,
when we are here. Don't you think it a good plan?" I told them I thought
it a very good plan. It is the same game we older people play at
sometimes. We shut out from our minds and thoughts what we would rather
not remember.'

'Sibyl is turning into a parson,' said Miss Amabel with a laugh.

[Illustration]

Miss Sibyl did not mind the laugh.

'The children are unfolding a parable to me,' she said quietly, 'and I
am getting the benefit of its interpretation.'

Christmas came and went, and Roland and Olive, with the delights of a
Christmas tree, and a party, and all the brightness attending that
festive season, were a little shaken in their views upon an English