lled hands too near her foot. At all
events she not only dried her tears at this suggestion, but twisted her
ankle so actively about that it slipped out of the crack as
mysteriously as it had gone in. There was no harm done, except various
bruises which had been chiefly caused by her efforts to escape.

In spite of some natural disappointment at not having any occasion to
exhibit her powers as a woodcutter, Madge congratulated her sister
heartily on getting loose, and the three children returned towards the
house. Miss Thompson was looking for them in the garden. They ran up
to her, concluding that as usual they were late for tea and she had
come to remind them of it.

"For once you are wrong," she said. "At least it is just tea-time, but
that was not why I was trying to find you. Now wash your hands, brush
your hair, and go to the schoolroom. There you will find three
visitors."

CHAPTER XXII.

THE VISITORS.

The children were far quicker than usual in carrying out Miss
Thompson's directions and preparing themselves for tea. They were
exceedingly curious to see the visitors, who, contrary to all custom,
seemed to have been shown into the school-room instead of the
drawing-room. And yet they were also a little shy, so that there was
none of the usual crowding at the doorway in trying who should enter
first. The younger ones very contentedly stood aside and allowed Madge
to take the lead without a murmur.

An elderly person, in a large black velvet bonnet, sat with her back to
the window, a very gaily-dressed little girl standing by her side. The
children looked vacantly from one to the other, wondering why they had
come.

"Well, Madge!" exclaimed Miss Thompson, "how much longer are you going
to stand there before you speak to Mrs. Winter, who has come all the
way from Churchbury to bring you a present?"

"Of course it's Mrs. Winter!" cried Madge, who had really been
completely mystified by the presence of the best black velvet bonnet,
so unlike the rather shabby straw hat in which Mrs. Winter had helped
to search for the missing brown bag.

"And this is Mrs. Winter's grandchild," continued Miss Thompson. "Her
name is Ann--"

"Is that Ann?" cried three excited voices; and the children pressed
eagerly forward to have a good look at the little girl who, though
scarcely older than themselves, was frequently left in charge of a real
shop.

Ann was a large solid-looking girl of thirteen, in a