the children. A babble of shrill cries, of chattering
laughter, of fretful screams, an undercurrent of remonstrance, of
soothing patience, of angry threatening, marked their slow progress
up and down the walk; in the clear spaces of the little park they
trotted freely after hoops and balls, rolled and ran over the green,
and hid, shouting, behind the bushes. It was a giant nursery, and
the mere man who trespassed on its borders smiled deprecatingly, and
steered a careful course among the parasols and tricycles, stooping
now and then to rescue some startled adventurer, sprawling from the
disgusted shock of encounter with this large and rapidly moving
object.

To Caroline, fresh from untrammeled sporting, through neighborly
suburban yards, this disciplined procession, under the escort of
Delia and the General, was fascinating to a degree. Far from
resenting the authority she would have scorned at home, she derived
an intense satisfaction from it, and pranced ostentatiously beside
the perambulator, mimicking Miss Honey's unconscious deference to a
higher power in the matter of suitable crossings and preferred
playfellows with the absorbed gravity of the artist.

"See! General, see the wobblybubble," Delia murmured affectionately.
"(Will you see that child turn his head just like a grown person?
Did you ever see anything as smart as that?) Did he like the red one
best? So does Delia. We'll come over here, and then you won't get
the sun in your precious eyes. Do you want me to push you
frontwards, so you can see me? (Watch him look at me--he knows what
I mean just as well, the rascal!) Just wait till we get across, and
I will. Look out, Miss Honey! Take hold of your cousin's hand and
run across together, now, like good girls."

Miss Honey made an obedient snatch at Caroline's apron strings, and
darted forward with a long roll of her skates. The road was clear
for a block. Delia, with a quick glance to left and right, lowered
the perambulator to the road-level and forged ahead. Caroline, nose
in air, studied the nearest policeman curiously.

"Look out, there! _Look out!_"

A man's voice like a pistol shot crashed behind them. Caroline heard
quick steps and a woman's scream, looked up at the huge, blood-red
bulk of an automobile that swooped around the corner and dashed
forward. But Miss Honey's hand was clutching her apron string, and
Miss Honey's weight as she fell, tangled in the skates, dragged her
down. Caroline,