Wilfred, who was standing first on one leg and then on the
other, and trying not to laugh, 'you're not really wild with us, are you,
Jill?'

'I'm simply _furious_ with you,' said Jill, and she began cutting bread
and butter with vigour.

'We really did it for your good,' added Peter, putting on an air of mock
penitence. 'How were we to know you didn't _want_ to be saved from the
Doctor?'

Jill tossed her head and went on cutting bread and butter still, with
her back turned to them all. 'Next time you try to save any one from any
one else,' she remarked, 'you'd better make sure first that she does want
saving.'

Anything they might have said in reply to this was drowned by the noisy
entrance of Christopher. He bounced into the room and shook his fist
wrathfully at his brothers.

'Look here, you fellows!' he shouted. 'Next time you shut a chap into a
_pig-sty_, perhaps you'll choose a pig-sty that doesn't belong to a pig
that comes home at tea-time and bangs against the door. I'd like to----'

He was brought to an abrupt pause. It suddenly struck him that there was
something a little odd about the way every one was assembled in the Babe's
room.

'Dry up, Kit!' said Wilfred, with a huge sigh. 'You were quite right; the
game wasn't worth it. She didn't want to be saved, after all.'

'She's just a girl,' added Peter, in a tone of deep dejection.

'She's a _princess_!' insisted Barbara, from the sofa.

Christopher looked swiftly round the room. The attitude of every one
seemed a little strained. Jill was cutting enough bread and butter for a
school, and the crumbs flew in all directions as she stood there with
her back to them all. The Doctor was smiling in a way that was clearly
put on, and Bobbin was examining his watch-chain with a familiarity that
would not have seemed possible an hour ago.

'Well, I'm bothered!' said Kit, at last. The truth was gradually dawning
upon him. 'Do you mean to say that you two have been and gone and got
_engaged_, while we've been trying to save you?' he demanded. '_Have_
you, Jill?'

'Oh, don't bother,' grumbled Jill. 'Why can't you ask Dr. Hurst?'

'_Have_ you?' repeated Kit, turning to the Doctor.

'Ask Jill,' replied the Doctor, smiling more than ever.

'Boys,' said Christopher, fixing his spectacles firmly on his nose
and staring solemnly at his brothers, 'we've made shocking idiots of
ourselves.'

Into the middle of them all now walked Mrs. Crofton of Crofts.

'Suc