you see, I
daresay I shall get some one to let me be their concierge like the old
woman in our lodge. I shall be very poor of course, but _anything_ is
better than crossing the sea again."

It sounded very melancholy. Sylvia's mind misgave her that perhaps she
should offer to stay with Molly "for always" on this side of the channel,
but she did not feel quite sure about it. And the odd thing was that of
them all Molly had most relished the travelling, and was most eager to
set off again. She liked the fuss and bustle of it, she said; she liked
the feeling of not being obliged to do any special thing at any special
hour, for regularity and method were sore crosses to Molly.

"It is so nice," she said, "to feel when we get up in the morning that we
shall be out of one bustle into another all day, and nobody to say 'You
will be late for your music,' or, 'Have you finished your geography,
Molly?'"

"Well," said Sylvia, "I am sure you haven't much of that kind of thing
just now, Molly. We have _far_ less lessons than we had at home. It is
almost like holidays."

This was quite true. It had been settled between grandmother and their
father that for the first two or three months the children should not
have many lessons. They had been working pretty hard for a year or two
with a very good, but rather strict, governess, and Sylvia, at no time
exceedingly strong, had begun to look a little fagged.

"They will have plenty to use their brains upon at first," said their
father. "The novelty of everything, the different manners and customs,
and the complete change of life, all that will be enough to occupy and
interest them, and I don't want to overwork them. Let them run wild for
a little."

It sounded very reasonable, but grandmother had her doubts about it all
the same. "Running wild" in her experience had never tended to making
little people happier or more contented.

"They are always better and more able to enjoy play-time when they feel
that they have done some work well and thoroughly," she said to aunty.
"However, we must wait a little. If I am not much mistaken, the children
themselves will be the first to tire of being too much at their own
disposal."

For a few weeks it seemed as if Mr. Heriott had been right. The children
were so interested and amused by all they saw that it really seemed as if
there would not be room in their minds for anything else. Every time they
went out a walk they returned, Molly especi