in, and said to his mamma with a smile, "It was all a
mistake; I thought it was; Carrots was not naughty at all, and he is
quite happy again now."

And Mrs. Desart smiled too, so Carrots really did feel happy again. But
he wondered what auntie would do about the tea, which was still standing
there as he had left it, and it would be wrong to "waste" it, thought
Carrots.

Sybil was sitting on auntie's other side, and auntie glancing at her cup
saw that it was empty. So auntie quietly put Carrots' cup before Sybil
and gave Carrots the empty one.

"Cecil," she said, "will you give Carrots some tea without any sugar?"

Cecil saw that auntie had some reason for asking this, so she gave
Carrots the tea as auntie said, and Carrots drank it and ate his bread
and butter and a piece of cake, with great content.

The only person who did not seem _quite_ contented was Sybil.

"Mother," she whispered, "I don't like having Carrots' tea. It's quite
cold."

But as Carrots didn't hear it, it didn't much matter. For you see, Sybil
had had one cup of nice hot tea, so she was not so badly off after all.

And, alas! the very next morning auntie and Sybil had to go away. And
the long-talked of and fancied-about visit was over.

CHAPTER X.

A JOURNEY AND ITS ENDING.

"The way was long, the wind was cold."

Soon after auntie's visit summer really began to come. It was very
pleasant while it lasted, but this year it was a very short summer, and
the winter that came after was a very severe one, and made many people
ill. It did not make Carrots ill, nor Floss, nor any of the Desart
children, for they were all strong, but it was very bad for their
mother. As the winter went on, she seemed to get weaker and weaker;
there were very few days on which she could go out, and if the spring
had not been an early and very mild one, I hardly think her strength
would have lasted.

But with the finer weather she seemed to get better again. The children
were of course very glad, but still they had not felt frightened by her
illness. It had come on so slowly and gradually that they had got
accustomed to it, as children do. They thought it was just the cold
wintry weather that had made her ill, and that when the spring came she
would get better. And when the spring came and she _did_ get better,
they were perfectly satisfied and happy.

By the end of _this_ summer Carrots was seven years old--no longer in
the least a baby, though he