petite for lunch."

Pixie gave a little prance of jubilation.

"Lovely! Lovely! I adore picnics! We'll gather, sticks to boil a
kettle, to make tea, and boil eggs, like we used to do at home when any
one had a birthday. And the sticks always fell in, and the water got
smoked!"

Honor and the two men had joined the sisters by this time, and stood
looking on with amusement.

"Miss O'Shaughnessy seems to appreciate smoked tea," said Stanor, and
Pixie sturdily defended her position.

"I don't; it's hateful! But you can have _nice_ tea every day, of your
life, and the game _is_ worth the candle! You can always pour it away
and drink milk, and you've had all the fun--gathering the wood, and
stoking, and looking at the smoke, and the blaze, and hearing the
crackle, and smelling the dear, _woody_ smell--"

"And blacking your hands, and spoiling your temper, and waiting for--how
many hours does it take for a watched kettle to boil?--and in the end
throwing away the result! You're easily pleased, Miss O'Shaughnessy!"

"I _am_, praise be!" assented Pixie, with a fervour which brought four
pairs of eyes upon her with a mingling of interest and admiration.

So far as features were concerned, it was a plain little face on which
they gazed; yet no one could have called it plain at that moment, for,
it was irradiated by that rarest of all beauties, an expression of
radiant contentment. In comparison with that face those of the
beholders appeared tired and discouraged, old before their time, by
reason of drooping lips, puckered brows, and wrinkled foreheads; and it
was evident that they themselves were aware of the fact, and stood, as
it were, as amateurs before a master. Robert Carr poked forward his
chin, and stared at her between narrowed eyes. Handsome Stanor smiled
approval, Honor slipped a little hand through her arm, and Esmeralda
sighed and frowned, and said with a shrug--

"Oh, we've lived past that, Pixie! Nowadays we take thermos bottles,
and luncheon baskets, and hot-water dishes, and dine just as--
uninterestingly as we do at home! English people wouldn't thank you for
a scramble. You must wait until you go back to Knock to Jack and
Sylvia, and even there the infection is creeping. Jack is developing
quite a taste for luxury."

"I like it myself. Dear Mrs Hilliard, please let us have luxuries
to-day!" Stanor pleaded; and Joan turned back to the house to
superintend arrangements, while the four yo