ead of paper.

The first thing she did--Miss Goldy-hair, I mean--was to draw us near to
the fire. She put Racey down on a low chair that was standing there and
began feeling us to see if we were very wet.

"Not so very bad," she said, smiling for the first time. "Audrey--are
you surprised I remember your name?--take off your jacket, dear. I don't
think the boys will get any harm, this rough serge throws off the rain.
_Now_--" when we were all settled so as to get nice and warm--"now, who
is going to tell me all about it? My little fellow," she added, turning
to Tom, who was still shaking with sobs, partly I think because of the
terrible way he was trying to force them down and to scrub his eyes dry,
"my little man, don't look so unhappy," she put her arm round him as she
spoke, "I'm sure we shall be able to put it all right."

"It's not all that," I said, "it's partly that he can't bear you to see
him crying, Miss Goldy-hair. He thinks it's like a baby."

A different sort of smile came into her face for a moment, a smile of
fun-- I wondered a little what it was. It wasn't till she told me
afterwards that I understood how funny our name for her must have
sounded, for I said it quite without thinking.

"Oh no," she said. "I didn't think that at all, my boy. Here, dear, take
a little drink of this tea." She got up and poured some out. "It's still
hot, and that will help to make the sobs go away."

"Tom had the measles worse than me," I said, "and he's not been so
strong since," for though she said she didn't think him a bit like a
baby, I couldn't bear it for him that he shouldn't be thought brave,
when really he was.

"Ah!" she said quickly, "then we must take great care of him."

She looked at him anxiously while he drank the hot tea.

"I know a great deal about children," she said to me, nodding her head
and smiling again. "Some day I'll show you what a number I have to help
to take care of. But now, little Audrey, what were you three doing out
in the street by yourselves in the dark and the rain?"

"We came out to post a letter," I said; "I didn't want anybody to know
about it for perhaps they wouldn't have sent it. So Mrs. Partridge was
out, and we were in the dining-room, and Uncle Geoff was out, and Sarah
was busy sewing and we thought nobody would know, and Tom wanted to go
alone, but I thought he'd get lost and Racey wouldn't stay alone, so we
all came. And we lost the way, and we thought this was our ho