'That's how I like them,' he answered vaguely, referring half to the pumps and half to the children. 'They're no trouble at all, believe me.' 'I'm afraid we've spoilt them rather----' 'But--not at all,' he murmured, still confused. 'They're only a little loose--er--lively, I mean. That's how they should be.' And outside all heard their laughing voices dying down the street as they raced along to the Citadelle for bed. It was Monkey's duty to see her brother safely in. Ten minutes later Mother would follow to tell them tuck-up stories and hear their prayers. 'Excuse me! Have you got a hot-water bottle?' asked a sudden jerky voice, and he turned with a start to see Jane Anne towering beside him. 'I'm sorry,' he answered, 'but I don't carry such things about with me.' He imagined she was joking, then saw that it was very serious. She looked puzzled a moment. 'I meant--would you like one? Everybody uses them here.' She thought all grown-ups used hot-water bottles. He hesitated a second. The child looked as though she would produce one from her blouse like any conjurer. As yet, however, the article in question had not entered his scheme of life. He declined it with many thanks. 'I can get you a big one,' she urged. But even that did not tempt him. 'Will you have a cold-water bandage then--for your head--or anything?' She seemed so afflicted with a desire to do something for him that he almost said 'Yes'; only the fear that she might offer next a beehive or a gramophone restrained him. 'Thank you _so_ much, but really I can manage without it--to-night.' Jane Anne made no attempt to conceal her disappointment. What a man he was, to be sure! And what a funny place the world was! 'It's Jinny's panacea,' said Mother, helping herself with reckless uncertainty to a long word. 'She's never happy unless she's doing for somebody,' she added ambiguously. 'It's her _metier_ in life.' 'Mother, what _are_ you saying?' said the child's expression. Then she made one last attempt. She remembered, perhaps, the admiring way he had watched her brother and sister's antics in the Den before. She was not clever on her feet, but at least she could try. 'Shall I turn head over heels for you, then?' He caught her mother's grave expression just in time to keep his laughter back. The offer of gymnastics clearly involved sacrifice somewhere. 'To-morrow,' he answered quickly. 'Always put off till to-morrow what you're too old to do to-day.' 'Of course; I see--yes.' She was more perplexed than ever, as he meant that she should be. His words were meaningless, but they helped the poignant situation neatly. She could not understand why all her offers were refused like this. There must be something wrong with her selection, perhaps. She would think of better ones in future. But, oh, what a funny place the world was! 'Good-night, then, Mr.--Cousin Rogers,' she said jerkily with resignation. 'Perhaps to-morrow--when I'm older----'