ause she ate the apple, that she scribbled all over
her face with a pencil, 'to punish her,' she said. My old verses! I cannot
recall the other half, it is so long ago, over thirty years! only think,
children, thirty years ago!"

She laid the paper carefully away in her work-basket, and bade the
children put their things together and come into the house, for it was
almost supper-time, and their father approved of punctuality above all
things.

They gathered up their work and books, and returned slowly to the house
under the triumphal arch that still spanned the garden-door of the house.

Dora had been peeping at them as they sat clustered about their mother in
an attentive group under the apple-tree. She had now a good chance to
examine each child, as they walked slowly back to the house, and as the
last one disappeared, she said, softly sighing, "Oh, if I could sit only
just once with them under the apple-tree!"

At supper that evening Aunt Ninette said, "We have really had a few hours
of quiet. If it goes on so, we shall be able to stay here after all. Don't
you think so, dear Titus?"

Dora listened breathlessly for the answer.

"The air in my room is very close, and I suffer more from giddiness than I
did at home," was the uncle's reply.

Dora gazed at her plate despondently, and lost her appetite for that
supper. Mrs. Ehrenreich broke out into lamentations It was provoking to
have made this journey without its being of any use to her husband after
all! If they had only moved away at once! However, perhaps there would be
less noise over the hedge after this, and the windows could be opened!
Dora's hopes rose again, for as long as they staid, there was always a
chance that she might go into that garden once, at least once.

CHAPTER V.

BEFORE AND AFTER THE FLOOD.

There were times when it seemed as if little Hunne could find no
resting-place for the sole of his foot, when he wandered restlessly back
and forth through the house incessantly. No one would pay any attention to
him, he was sent from one person to another, and even his mother only bade
him sit quietly at his own little table until she was at liberty to come
to him. Of course Hunne's restless moments were just those when everybody
was particularly busy, such as Saturday morning when no one had a moment
to spare. And on this particular Saturday, the child had been wandering
about the passages among the sofas and chairs which, having been pu