"The people about here don't understand us," said the Terror somewhat
sadly. "They'd think we should be bad for you."

"But it is not so! You are ever so good to me!" cried the princess
hotly.

"It's no good. You couldn't make grown-ups see that--you know what
they are. No; you'd much better leave it alone, and sit tight and meet
us here," said the Terror.

The princess sat thoughtful and frowning for a little while; then she
sighed and said: "Well, I will do what you say. You know more about
it."

"That's all right," said the Terror, greatly relieved.

There was a short silence; then he said thoughtfully: "I tell you what:
it would be a good thing if you were to get some muscle on you.
Suppose we taught you some exercises. You could practise them at home;
and soon you'd be able to do things when you were with us."

"What things?" said the princess.

"Oh, you'd be able to run--and jump. Why we might even be able to
teach you to climb," said the Terror with a touch of enthusiasm in his
tone as the loftier heights of philanthropy loomed upon his inner
vision.

"Oh, that would be nice!" cried the princess. Forthwith the Twins set
about teaching her some of the exercises which go to the making of
muscle; and the princess was a painstaking pupil. In spite of the
seeds of revolt they had sown in her heart, she was eager to get back
to the peach-garden before the baroness should awake, or at any rate
before she should have satisfied herself that her charge was not in the
house or about the gardens. The Terror therefore conducted her down
the screen of trees to the door in the wall. She had left it
unlatched; and he pushed it open gently. There was no sound of
snoring: the baroness had awoke and left the garden.

"I expect she is still looking for me in the house," said the princess
calmly. "They'd be shouting if she weren't."

"Yes. I say; do you want _all_ these peaches?" said the Terror,
looking round the loaded walls.

"Me? No. I have a peach for breakfast and another for lunch. But I
don't care for peaches much. It's the way the baroness eats them, I
think--the juice roonning down, you know. And she eats six or seven
always."

"That woman's a pig. I thought she looked like one," said the Terror
with conviction. "But if you don't want them all, may I have some for
my mother? The doctor has ordered her fruit; and she's very fond of
peaches."

"Oh, yes; take some for your mother and