rn you out again while I undress. But that won't take long, and
you'll be safe enough beneath the van."

So after providing them with a hunk of cake apiece from one of the
sideboard lockers, and peeping forth to make sure the coast was clear,
she dismissed them with instructions to creep into the darkness under
the steps, and there lie quiet until she summoned them.

Ten minutes later she leaned forth again and called "Coo-ee!" very
softly, and they returned to find her in the white bed, recumbent in a
coquettish nightgown. She had folded and stowed her day garments away--
Tilda could not imagine where--and a mattress and rugs lay on the floor,
ready spread for the children. Nor was this all. On the sideboard
stood a plateful of biscuits, and on the stove a spirit-lamp, with a
kettle already beginning to sing, and a teapot and three cups and
saucers.

With a turn of the hand, scarcely stirring from her recumbent posture,
the Fat Lady closed the door and shot its small brass bolt. Then with a
quick series of movements, reaching forward as soon as the kettle
boiled, she filled the teapot, emptied the rest of the boiling water
into the flashing nickel basin of the washstand, set down the kettle,
turned and shut a cold-water tap, and invited the children to wash
before supping.

The aroma of the tea--real China tea it was--and the fragrance of
scented soap--genuine Old Brown Windsor--went straight through their
senses to the children's hearts. In all their lives they had known no
experience so delicious.

Mrs. Lobb noted with approval that the boy drew aside and yielded Tilda
the first turn at the basin. When his came she watched him, and by and
by observed, "He washes like a gentleman, too."

"Not," she explained as the children drank their tea--"not that I have
ever seen a gentleman wash. But women know what's dainty." Here she
fell into a muse. "I've often pictered Mr. Lobb washing. These little
things make so much difference." She sighed. "Well now, if you've
finished your supper, we'll say our prayers and get to sleep."

"Prayers?" queried Tilda.

As a rule, when anything happened outside her experience she sat quiet
and let it happen, reserving criticism. But, chancing to look up, she
had seen the boy wince at the word.

Mrs. Lobb, less observant, had taken down a Bible from the shelf above
her. She opened it and read--

'And they departed from Kibroth-hattaavah, and encamped at
Hazer