pots they could find with flowers--asters and
zinnias, and loose-leaved late red roses from the wall of the
stableyard, till the house was a perfect bower.

And almost as soon as dinner was cleared away mother arrived, and was
clasped in eight loving arms. It was very difficult indeed not to tell
her all about the Psammead at once, because they had got into the habit
of telling her everything. But they did succeed in not telling her.

[Illustration: She was clasped in eight loving arms]

Mother, on her side, had plenty to tell them--about Granny, and Granny's
pigeons, and Auntie Emma's lame tame donkey. She was very delighted with
the flowery-boweryness of the house; and everything seemed so natural
and pleasant, now that she was home again, that the children almost
thought they must have dreamed the Psammead.

But, when mother moved towards the stairs to go up to her bedroom and
take off her bonnet, the eight arms clung round her just as if she only
had two children, one the Lamb and the other an octopus.

"Don't go up, mummy darling," said Anthea; "let me take your things up
for you."

"Or I will," said Cyril.

"We want you to come and look at the rose-tree," said Robert.

"Oh, don't go up!" said Jane helplessly.

"Nonsense, dears," said mother briskly, "I'm not such an old woman yet
that I can't take my bonnet off in the proper place. Besides I must wash
these black hands of mine."

So up she went, and the children, following her, exchanged glances of
gloomy foreboding.

Mother took off her bonnet,--it was a very pretty hat, really, with
white roses in it,--and when she had taken it off she went to the
dressing-table to do her pretty hair.

On the table between the ring-stand and the pin-cushion lay a green
leather case. Mother opened it.

"Oh, how lovely!" she cried. It was a ring, a large pearl with shining
many-lighted diamonds set round it. "Wherever did this come from?"
mother asked, trying it on her wedding finger, which it fitted
beautifully. "However did it come here?"

"I don't know," said each of the children truthfully.

"Father must have told Martha to put it here," mother said. "I'll run
down and ask her."

"Let me look at it," said Anthea, who knew Martha would not be able to
see the ring. But when Martha was asked, of course she denied putting
the ring there, and so did Eliza and cook.

Mother came back to her bedroom, very much interested and pleased about
the ring. But, when sh