lad," said I. "I would rather be with you."

"Would you like a dog to sleep with you?" Eleanor politely inquired. "I
shall have Growler inside, and my big boy outside. Pincher is a nice
little fellow; you'd better have Pincher."

I took Pincher accordingly, and Pincher took the middle of the bed.

We were just dropping off to sleep when Eleanor said, "If Pincher
snores, darling, hit him on the nose."

"All right," said I. "Good-night." I had begun a confused dream, woven
from my late experiences, when Eleanor's voice roused me once more.

"Margery dear, if Growler _should_ get out of my bed and come on to
yours, mind you kick him off, or he and Pincher will fight through the
bed-clothes."

But whether Pincher did snore, or Growler invade our bed, I slept much
too soundly to be able to tell.

CHAPTER XXI.

GARDENING--DRINKINGS--THE MOORS--WADING--BATRACHOSPERMA--THE
CHURCH--LITTLE MARGARET.

Both Eleanor and I were visited that night by dreams of terrible
complications with the authorities at Bush House. It was a curious
relief to us to wake to clear consciences and the absolute control of
our own conduct for the day.

It took me several minutes fairly to wake up and realize my new
position. The window being in the opposite direction (as regarded my
bed) from that of our room at Miss Mulberry's, the light puzzled me, and
I lay blinking stupidly at a spray of ivy that had poked itself through
the window as if for shelter from the sun, which was already blazing
outside. Pincher brought me to my senses by washing my face with his
tongue; which I took all the kindlier of him that he had been, of all
the dear boys, the most doubtful about the calves of my legs the evening
before.

As we dressed, I adopted Eleanor's fashion of doing so on foot, that I
might examine her room. As is the case with the "bowers" of most
English country girls of her class, it was rich in those treasures
which, like the advertised contents of lost pocket-books, are "of no
value to any one but the owner." Prints of sacred subjects in home-made
frames, knick-knacks of motley variety, daguerreotypes and second-rate
photographs of "the boys"--_i. e._ Clement and Jack--at different ages,
and of "the dear boys" also. "All sorts of things!" as I exclaimed
admiringly. But Eleanor threatened at last to fine me if I did not get
dressed instead of staring about me, so we went down-stairs, and had
breakfast with the dogs.

"The boys will