Two silver lions with wings had fruit on their backs, and the salt cellars were tiny birds drinking out of basins. And all the winking glasses and shining plates and sparkling knives and forks—and all the food. And the little red table napkins made into roses. . . . “Are people going to eat the food?” asked Sun. “I should just think they were,” laughed Cook, laughing with Nellie. Moon laughed, too; she always did the same as other people. But Sun didn’t want to laugh. Round and round he walked with his hands behind his back. Perhaps he never would have stopped if Nurse hadn’t called suddenly: “Now then, children. It’s high time you were washed and dressed.” And they were marched off to the nursery. While they were being unbuttoned Mother looked in with a white thing over her shoulders; she was rubbing stuff on her face. “I’ll ring for them when I want them, Nurse, and then they can just come down and be seen and go back again,” said she. Sun was undressed, first nearly to his skin, and dressed again in a white shirt with red and white daisies speckled on it, breeches with strings at the sides and braces that came over, white socks and red shoes. “Now you’re in your Russian costume,” said Nurse, flattening down his fringe. “Am I?” said Sun. “Yes. Sit quiet in that chair and watch your little sister.” Moon took ages. When she had her socks put on she pretended to fall back on the bed and waved her legs at Nurse as she always did, and every time Nurse tried to make her curls with a finger and a wet brush she turned round and asked Nurse to show her the photo of her brooch or something like that. But at last she was finished too. Her dress stuck out, with fur on it, all white; there was even fluffy stuff on the legs of her drawers. Her shoes were white with big blobs on them. “There you are, my lamb,” said Nurse. “And you look like a sweet little cherub of a picture of a powder-puff?” Nurse rushed to the door. “Ma’am, one moment.” Mother came in again with half her hair down. “Oh,” she cried. “What a picture!” “Isn’t she,” said Nurse. And Moon held out her skirts by the tips and dragged one of her feet. Sun didn’t mind people not noticing him—much. . . . After that they played clean tidy games up at the table while Nurse stood at the door, and when the carriages began to come and the sound of laughter and voices and soft rustlings came from down below she whispered: “Now then, children, stay where you are.” Moon kept jerking the table cloth so that it all hung down her side and Sun hadn’t any—and then she pretended she didn’t do it on purpose. At last the bell rang. Nurse pounced at them with the hair brush, flattened his fringe, made her bow stand on end and joined their hands together. “Down you go!” she whispered. And down they went. Sun did feel silly holding Moon’s hand like that but Moon seemed to like it. She swung her arm and the bell on her coral bracelet jingled.