like; how important it is that one
shouldn't be disturbed."

"But you _must_ be beturbed when I ask you to come and play wiv me."

"Oh, well ... what shall we play at?"

"Trains," said Margery eagerly.

When we play at trains I have to be a tunnel. I don't know if you have
ever been a tunnel? No; well, it's an over-rated profession.

"We won't play trains," I announced firmly, "because it's Sunday."

"Why not because it's Sunday?"

(Oh, you little pagan!)

"Hasn't Mummy told you about Sunday?"

"Oh, yes, Maud did tell me," said Margery casually. Then she gave an
innocent little smile. "Oh, I called Mummy Maud," she said in pretended
surprise. "I quite _fought_ I was upstairs!"

I hope you follow. The manners and customs of good society must be
observed on the ground floor where visitors may happen; upstairs one
relaxes a little.

"Do you know," Margery went on with the air of a discoverer, "you
mustn't say 'prayers' downstairs. Or 'corsets.'"

"I never do," I affirmed. "Well, anyhow I never will again."

"Why mayn't you?"

"I don't know," I said sleepily.

"Say prehaps."

"Well--_prehaps_ it's because your mother tells you not to."

"Well, 'at's a _silly_ fing to say," said Margery scornfully.

"It is. I'm thoroughly ashamed of it. I apologise. Good night." And I
closed my eyes again....

"I fought you were going to play wiv me, Mr. Bingle," sighed Margery to
herself.

"My name is not Bingle," I said, opening one eye.

"Why isn't it Bingle?"

"The story is a very long and sad one. When I wake up I will tell it to
you. Good night."

"Tell it to me now."

There was no help for it.

"Once upon a time," I said rapidly, "there was a man called Bingle,
Oliver Bingle, and he married a lady called Pringle. And his brother
married a lady called Jingle; and his other brother married a Miss
Wingle. And his cousin remained single.... That is all."

"Oh, I see," said Margery doubtfully. "Now will you play wiv me?"

How can one resist the pleading of a young child?

"All right," I said. "We'll pretend I'm a little girl, and you're my
mummy, and you've just put me to bed.... Good night, mummy dear."

"Oh, but I must cover you up." She fetched a table-cloth, and a
pram-cover, and _The Times_, and a handkerchief, and the cat, and a
doll's what-I-mustn't-say-downstairs, and a cushion; and she covered me
up and tucked me in. "'Ere, 'ere, now go to sleep, my darling," she
said, and kissed me lovingly.