y little cakes all ready. Won't you come in too,
Master Justin, before you go off with Bob? I've been fearing you might
have got cold when you were here last week; it was such a very wet day.'

'No fear,' said Justin amiably. 'Bob and I aren't made of sugar or salt,
are we, Bob? I'll come in for a minute, thank you, Nance, but we mustn't
be long, or we'll have no fun. It gets so soon dark now, and papa's
vexed if we don't all go home together.'

'To be sure,' said the old woman, 'and quite right too. You'll never
find me wanting you to do anything your dear papa and mamma wouldn't
like, my dears.'

So saying she led the way into her quaint little kitchen, all tidied up
and bright as the children always found it--the cakes and a large jug of
milk set out as before on a small table near the pleasantly glowing
fire.

'Are you coming with Bob and me, Archie?' Justin inquired. 'Pat's a
donkey--no use asking him.'

Pat took this uncomplimentary speech very calmly. Archie hesitated.

'Come along,' said Justin, 'that's to say if you're coming,' for having
made away with at least three of the tempting little cakes, he was now
in a hurry to be off.

'Don't go, Archie,' said Rosamond, speaking low, so that the elder boys
could not hear, and her words decided Archie.

'I'd rather stay here, thank you, Jus,' he said. 'You've got Bob, so you
don't really need me.'

'You are a softy,' said Justin as he ran off, but Archie, backed by Pat
and Rosamond, did not care.

'Now, Nance,' said Pat, when most of the cakes and milk were disposed
of, 'we're ready for your stories.'

The old woman had drawn a stool to the fire and was sitting there facing
it, the reflection casting a pleasant glow on her sunburnt cheeks and
keen bright eyes. She was always a nice-looking old woman, but just now
she really looked quite pretty.

'How fond you are of the fire, Nance,' said Archie; 'do you have one all
the year round?'

'Mostly so, Master Archie,' she replied. 'You see old folk like me grow
chilly. It's not often I feel too hot, even in the midsummer days. And
here on the moorside there's always a breeze more or less. Yes, I love
my bit o' fire, Master Archie--you're about right there, but all the
same I'd rather face cold than be choked in a town and have no fresh
air, like some poor things have to bear their lives.'

'Nance,' said Miss Mouse suddenly; she had been sitting silent watching
Bob's granny, 'it's so funny, it seems to me