ht, crisp winter day outside--Darby knew, because he had
been sliding on the pond behind the barrack wall quite early after
breakfast--but inside the house it was chill and gloomy; for all the
blinds were down, and every room seemed strange and still.

At twilight their father came up to the nursery. He stood for a minute
or two looking down upon Joan lying asleep in her crib. Then he took
Darby in his arms, and drawing a low chair close to the window, together
they sat there until from the fleckless blue of the frosty sky the
little stars shone out one by one, twinkling soft bright eyes towards
Darby as if to say, "Good-night, you poor little motherless lamb! Go to
bed; sleep sound, and we shall watch your pillow the whole night
through."

But these memories were nearly a year old now. Already they were
becoming less vivid in Darby's mind, and being gradually pushed aside in
order to leave room in the storehouse for more recent impressions. Many
things had happened since then. Baby Eric had grown from a tiny pink
morsel into quite an armful, Nurse Perry declared, and a heavy handful
as well, whatever that meant. They had dwelt in different places, too,
during that time; because when the regiment moved the officers also
moved, and Captain Dene kept his motherless children as constantly with
him as it was possible to do. Recently, however, it had become no longer
possible--quite impossible, in fact--for Captain Dene's company was
under orders for active service in South Africa. Darby and Joan would
have been more than willing to accompany their father to the ends of the
earth, riding at the tail of a baggage-wagon, seated on a gun-carriage,
or perched on the hump of a camel. But Captain Dene only smiled and
shook his head at the eager little ones. Then he made for them the best
arrangement that circumstances permitted.

In consequence, just the previous Thursday he had brought his three
children, with Perry their nurse, to Firgrove, where they were to remain
during his absence, under the care and guardianship of his own two
aunts, the Misses Turner.

Aunt Catharine and Auntie Alice, as Darby and Joan were told to call the
maiden ladies (who in the children's eyes looked old enough to be the
grandmothers of all the young folks in the neighbourhood around their
country home), were sisters of Captain Dene's mother. They were not
really old at all, although Aunt Catharine's thick black hair was shaded
by a lace cap, and