Here was something expected of her, at any rate. She should have felt elated at being again appealed to, but she only looked vaguely from Faith to Irene and back again. "Neither do I," she confessed at last. Irene counted heads on her fingers. "Nine," she reckoned, "two real kiddies, two ex-kiddies,"--fixing her eyes on Keith and Daphne. Daphne threw a tuft of heather at her, "one--two--three----" "Flappers," interrupted Keith derisively. "Grown-ups," finished Irene, ignoring him, "and two real grown-ups who like their tea strong. I should think half-a-dozen teaspoonsful would do. If we haven't tea enough to go round, Keith and Daphne shall drink hot water; it will be so good for their complexion." "What gratitude! after we have slaved so over the fire and boiling the kettle and all," cried Keith indignantly. "What is the 'all'? Don't say that you have boiled anything more than the water." But the discussion was put an end to by the kettle, which boiled over at that moment, and the tea was made as Irene had decreed. Then at last the whole party gathered round the table; the kittens, revived by milk, played happily together on the grass. Nibbler sulked in his basket and took sly bites at a handful of dandelion leaves when he thought that no one was noticing him; but everyone else was happy, hungry, and content. The fresh air gave them all such appetites that everything they had to eat and drink seemed to be doubly good; the same beautiful air and the sunshine sent their spirits soaring, and set everyone in the mood to laugh and joke. All stiffness and shyness had so completely vanished that the visitors already seemed like old friends rather than new ones; and Audrey was just thinking how very happy life might be, even at home in Moor End, when, in a pause in the chatter, a sharp pitiful cry floated across the stillness to them. Debby was on her feet in a moment. "It is one of the kittens," she cried anxiously. "Oh, what has happened? I am sure one is hurt." Everyone's eyes searched the ground around them. Snowdrop was seen at once, and Nigger was close by. Suddenly Keith started to run, Debby tore after him, the same fear possessing them both. A little way off Peter stood cropping the grass, a few paces behind him Rudolph lay on the turf bleeding and very still--his inquisitiveness had led him too far at last. In inspecting Peter's hoofs he had got under one and so ended his curiosity for ever. [Illustration: 'TEA ON THE MOORS.'] Keith reached him first, and by the time poor, panting, white-faced Debby drew near he had covered the little lifeless body with his handkerchief. "He is dead," he said gently, going to meet her and lead her away. "Poor little chap--he must have been killed at once. Come away, Debby dear, don't look at him." And he stood with his arm around her shaking shoulders while her first anguished sobs broke from her.