Of course the boys promised again to do their best. A whispered word stopped Margery's wailing, the pennies were soon abstracted from the money-box, and then the little trio made their way quietly down the garden, and out at the gate into the lane. Once outside their pace, spurred by hunger, quickened considerably, and famished little Margery was very soon sitting perfectly happy in Aunt Maggie's kitchen, with a mug of milk before her and a large slice of bread and butter and sugar. CHAPTER II. HOW THE DAY ENDED. Bella stood for a moment looking out at the cold grey sky and the neglected garden, but her thoughts were with the children, and her ears following the sounds of their retreating footsteps. Her mind was greatly relieved by the thought that they would soon be having some food. For herself and her own hunger she did not care, and she would not let herself think of the two pennies she had given up, and the gloves that she had been so looking forward to possessing, but would now have to do without. A thrill of dread passed through her at the thought of her aunt. Would she be very angry, she wondered, if she found out what she had done? Most probably she would, thought Bella, though there was no harm in it. It never occurred to her that nothing could have been much more annoying to Miss Hender than for a neighbour to be asked to feed the children she was supposed to be there to look after. It was making public her neglect and bad temper. It would have been far better to have done the straightforward thing, without any deception; to have gone to her bravely and asked to be allowed to give the children some food, and have borne patiently her annoyance and angry words. Now Bella's great anxieties were that her aunt should not find out that the children had gone, and that they should be back before she should miss them. The thought of this sent her quickly into the house. "Are there any more things for me to hang out, Aunt Emma?" she asked, cheerfully. "There seems to be a little breeze springing up." Miss Hender, without replying, handed her a dish piled high with wet clothes. "Hang them so that they'll catch the wind, if there is any." And Bella went out, anxiously wondering how one did that, but not daring to ask her aunt. In her perplexity she stood for a few moments looking at the garments already on the lines, to see if some were blowing out more than others, but, apparently, the little breeze had not power enough to stir them, and Bella had to hang up her last load and trust to chance for its being according to her aunt's pleasure. She had very little hope, though, of such good fortune. When she got back to the kitchen again Miss Hender had emptied the tub she had been washing at, and was preparing to dry her wrinkled, water-soaked fingers.