"There!" exclaimed Mrs. Brenton, "my letter to Dick is written. A very long time ago I spoiled my husband," she said, looking back over her shoulder; "whenever we were apart I promised to write to him every day, and now he holds me to this bargain. I really do owe him a letter this morning, however," said Agnes Brenton, "for I came away in such a hurry with her. Mrs. Lancing insisted on bringing me up to town, and I had scarcely time to explain things, or arrange my household affairs. Happily, Dick is an old hand at housekeeping...." She broke off, and turned again in her chair. From the staircase beyond there came all at once the sound of an important approach; there was a great stamping of feet, accompanied by observations in clear, high-pitched little voices. "Camilla's children!" said Mrs. Brenton. As she put down her pen and rose the door was opened very widely, and two small persons entered hand-in-hand. Caroline had never seen two prettier little mortals, or two so daintily attired. They flung themselves on Mrs. Brenton, and hugged her with enthusiasm. "Good morning, Auntie Brenny," said Betty, the eldest, and she settled her ruffled plumage as she spoke. "How is you this morning, darling? Aren't you very pleased to see us? We comed because we have brought you this letter from mother, and because we promised to come." She advanced to Caroline and took her little sister with her. "Good morning," she said; "how d-ye-do? Say 'Good morning', Baby." Baby put out a tiny hand in a white woollen glove with fingers that were much too large. "Dormez bien!" she said, with an angelic smile and a doubtful accent. She cuddled up to Caroline to be kissed, and then, detaching herself from her sister, went and seated herself at the table, while Betty administered correction. "'Dormez bien' is not 'good morning,' Baby; it's 'good night,'" she said; then she looked at Caroline and shrugged her shoulders. "Baby does say such extra-ninary things," she observed. "I want somefing to eat," said Baby in a very determined voice. Dennis, the maid who was in charge of the children, and was speaking to Mrs. Brenton, advanced quickly. "Oh no, Miss Baby, dear, you _can't_ want anything to eat, I am sure! Please ma'am," appealing to Mrs. Brenton, "don't give her anything." But Miss Baby had her own views on this subject. "I want some 'oney and some 'am," she said, tearing off her pretty grey fur cap and removing her gloves. "Nasty Dennis, go away! I'm awful 'ungry!" Betty was making great friends with Caroline. "I like you," she said candidly; "why have I never met you before? What is your name?" Then she whispered, "I'm going to have a birthday in March; but don't tell Baby, she'll want it too, and she does fuss so when she wants things. How old are you?" Caroline knelt down the better to study the child's brilliantly lovely little face. Betty Lancing at six had all the charm and distinction of her mother. Already she commanded homage.