arrots.

"Then it _must_ be this way," said Floss, and on they trudged.

In a few minutes they came to large gates, on one side of which stood a
pretty little house, but such a little house, hardly bigger than a
cottage.

"Is that auntie's house?" said Carrots.

"I'm afraid it's too little to be auntie's house," said Floss. "I wish
it was. I would _much_ rather auntie lived in a cottage."

"Just like Mrs. White's," said Carrots.

Floss could not help laughing at him; it had left off raining and her
spirits were rising a little.

"Look Carrots," she said, "there is a light in the cottage window. We'd
better knock at the door and ask if it is auntie's house. It's getting
rather like a fairy story, isn't it Carrots? Fancy if somebody calls out
'Pull the string and the latch will open.'"

"But that would be the wolf, Floss," said Carrots, pressing closer to
his sister.

It was no wolf, but a nice, tidy-looking woman with a white cap and a
baby in her arms who opened the door, and stood staring at the two
little wayfarers in bewilderment. Floss grew afraid that she was angry.

"I'm very sorry--I mean I beg your pardon," she began. "I didn't know
this was your house. We thought perhaps it was auntie's. Can you tell
me, please, where Greenmays is?"

"This _is_ Greenmays," said the woman. Floss stared: the door opened
right into the kitchen, it couldn't be auntie's house.

"This is the lodge," continued the woman. "If it's someone at the big
house you're wanting, you must just go straight up the drive. I'd show
you the way," she went on, "but my husband's up at the stables and it's
too cold for baby. You seem wet and tired, you do--have you come far?"

"Yes," said Floss, wearily, "_very_ far. We thought auntie would meet us
at the station, but there wasn't anybody."

"They must be kin to the housekeeper, surely," thought the woman. And
yet something indescribable in Floss's manner, and in the clear,
well-bred tones of her small, childish voice, prevented her asking if
this was so. "I wish I could go with you to the house," she repeated,
curiosity and kindliness alike prompting her, "but," she added, looking
doubtfully at the sleeping child in her arms, "I'm afeared for baby."

"Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you," said Floss, "we can find the way, I
daresay. Good evening," and taking Carrots by the hand, she turned to
go.

"Good evening," said little Carrots also.

"Good evening, and I hope you'll find your a