asles,' said Miss Simpshall; 'it's all out on them--thick.'

'Good gracious!' said mother.

'And I thought you'd perhaps just as soon Molly didn't have it, Mrs.
Carruthers. And this is all the thanks I get, being told I'm insane.'

'I'm sorry,' said mother absently. 'Yes, you were quite right. Keep the
children warm. Has the doctor seen them?'

'Not yet; I've only just found it out. Oh, it's terrible! Their hands
and faces are all scarlet with purple spots.'

'Oh dear, oh dear! I hope it's nothing worse than measles! I'll call in
and send the doctor,' said mother; 'I shall be home by the last train.
It's a blessing Molly's clothes are all here in her box.'

So Molly was whisked off in the cab.

'I must take you back to your aunt's,' said mother.

'But Aunt Eliza's gone to stay at the Bishop's Palace,' said Molly.

'So she has; we must go to your Aunt Maria's. Oh dear!'

'Never mind, mother,' said Molly, slipping her hand into mother's;
'perhaps they won't have it very badly. And I'll be very good, and try
not to have it at all.'

This was very brave of Molly; she would much rather have had measles
than have gone to stay at Aunt Maria's.

Aunt Maria lived in a lovely old house down in Kent. It had beautiful
furniture and beautiful gardens; in fact, as Bertie said, it was a place

'Where every prospect pleases,
And only aunt is vile.'

Molly and her mother arrived there just at supper-time. Aunt Maria was
very surprised and displeased. Molly went to bed at once, and her
supper was brought up on a tray by Clements, aunt's own maid. It was
cold lamb and mint-sauce, and jelly and custard.

'Your aunt said to bring you biscuits and milk,' said Clements, 'but I
thought you'd like this better.'

'You're a darling!' said Molly; 'I was so afraid you'd be gone for your
holiday. It's not nearly so beastly when you're here.'

Clements was flattered, and returned the compliment.

'And you aren't so bad when you're good, miss,' she said. 'Eat it up.
I'll come back and bring you a night-light by-and-by.'

One thing Molly liked about Aunt Maria's was that there were no
children's bedrooms--no bare rooms with painted furniture and Dutch
drugget. All the rooms were 'best rooms', with soft carpets
and splendid old furniture. The beds were all four-posters with carved
pillars and silk damask curtains, and there were sure to be the
loveliest things to make believe with in whatever room you happened to
be put into.