hing singularly sweet in the old
woman's voice when it suited her to make it so, and she was evidently
very pleased to see the little stranger.

'Welcome, missie dear,' she said. 'I was thinking you'd be coming
to-day, and proud I am to see you all.'

Rosamond felt a little surprised at finding herself expected, but no
doubt, she thought to herself, the boys had told the old woman that they
would bring her.

'Thank you,' she said, in her pretty, half-shy way. 'I wanted to come
very much. I think it must be so nice to live on the moor as you do.'

'Nance has always lived on a moor,' said Archie, 'ever since she was
quite a little girl. That's why she came here instead of going to the
village.'

'Aye, Master Archie,' said the old woman, 'I'd choke in a village, let
alone a town, but there was a time that I was far away from moorland,
though my life began on one and 'twill end on one too. But won't you
come in, my dears. I was baking this morning--there's some little cakes
maybe you'd like a taste of, and some nice fresh milk.'

None of the children had any objection to an afternoon luncheon of this
kind, and Nance's little cakes were certainly very good. Miss Mouse felt
exceedingly happy. The inside of the cottage was beautifully clean, and
uncommon-looking in some ways, for Nance had trained a creeping plant so
well that one side of the room was nearly covered by it, and, besides
this, there was a kind of rockery in one corner with smaller plants
growing in its crannies. The furniture, though plain and strong, was of
quaint, uncommon shapes, and on the high mantelshelf stood some queer
pieces of china, more rarely to be seen in those days than now, when the
curiosities of the East can be bought by any one for very little.
Rosamond knew more about such things than the boys, as her father had
been so much in India, and she thought to herself that perhaps the old
woman had had sons or brothers who were sailors.

The little room was pleasantly warm without being too hot; indeed Nance
loved fresh air so much that it was rarely her door was shut closely
even in winter. The fire was dancing brightly, and there was a peculiar
fragrance which seemed to come from it.

'I've been burning pine-cones and other sweet-smelling things,' said
Nance.

Rosamond gave a sigh of satisfaction.

'It's perfectly lovely in here every way,' she said. 'It's like a
fairy-house.'

'Oh, that reminds me,' said Pat, 'you promised to tell u