ds were not at
all what she had pictured them--at least--and then her mind went on to
what it was that had disappointed and almost shocked her. She was too
sensible a little woman to mind their being noisy and even rather rough.
But--'it wasn't a nice kind of noisiness,' she thought, 'they all seemed
against each other, as if they were going to begin quarrelling every
minute, even though they didn't quite. I'm very glad I live with Uncle
Ted and Aunt Mattie. I'd rather have no one to play with than be always
afraid of quarrelling.'

Suddenly Mrs. Caryll glanced at her little companion, and it struck her
that Rosamond's face was pale and that she was very silent.

'My dear,' she said, 'I don't mind the boys calling you Miss Mouse--it
is a nice, funny little name--but I don't want you to grow _quite_ into
a mouse. I have not heard the faintest, tiniest squeak from you since we
left Moor Edge.'

Rosamond smiled a little, but it was not a very bright smile.

'I-- I thought you were thinking, auntie,' she said, 'and p'raps you
were tired.'

'Just a scrap tired, I daresay,' said Aunt Mattie, 'and--yes I _was_
thinking, but I shouldn't have forgotten you, my pet. Are _you_ not
tired?'

'I don't know, auntie,' the little girl replied. 'My head feels rather
buzzy, I think. It gets like that sometimes when I've been in the
railway and coming to see places and--and-- I never played with such a
lot of boys before, you see, auntie. I'm not becustomed to them yet,'
and she could not keep back a tiny sigh.

It was repeated, though not to be heard, in Aunt Mattie's heart.

'I am dreadfully afraid I have made a great mistake,' thought the young
lady to herself, 'in believing she could get on with them and be happy
there. She is too delicate and fragile for them. I must arrange
something different and not attempt her going there for lessons.'

But just as she was saying this to herself with a good deal of
disappointment, Rosamond called out eagerly, with quite a different tone
in her voice.

'Auntie, auntie,' she said, 'is that the signpost with "Whitcrow" on one
of the spokes? Justin told me to look out for it. They pass by here when
they go to their lessons on rainy days. I mean they turn off here
instead of going on to your house. Yes'--as her aunt drew in the pony
and passed the signpost at a walk, to let the little girl have a good
look at it, and at the road beyond--'yes, that's it, "To W, h, i, t,--
Whitcrow," quite p