"Well," said Floss, "I read in a book of Cecil's, they cry because they haven't got any souls. When they die they can't go to heaven, you see." Sybil and Carrots looked very solemn at this. Then a sudden thought struck Carrots. "How can they cry if they haven't got souls, Floss?" he said, "nurse says it's our souls that make us glad and sorry. Are you _sure_ the poor mermaids haven't got souls?" "I'm only telling you what I read in a book," said Floss. "I dare say it's all a sort of fairy tale. Don't you like fairy tales, Sybil?" "No," said Sybil, "I like stories of naughty boys and girls best--_very_ naughty boys and girls." "Oh, Sybil!" said Carrots, "_I_ don't, because they are always unhappy in the end." "No, they're not. Sometimes they all get good. Mother always makes them get good at the end," replied Sybil. "Does auntie tell you stories?" said Floss. "Yes, of course, for I can't read them to myself yet. I'm learning, but it is _so_ hard," said Sybil dolefully. "I wish auntie would tell _us_ stories." "P'raps she will when you come to my house," said Sybil, encouragingly. "Would you think that a treat?" "It would be a 'normous treat." "We're going to have a treat to-day," said Floss. "We're going to have tea in the dining-room with you, Sybil, and auntie and everybody, and I think it's time to go in now, because we must change our frocks." Carrots had never had tea in the dining-room before, and felt a little overpowered by the honour. He sat very still, and took whatever was offered to him, as nurse had taught him. Cecil poured out the tea, and to please the children she put an extra allowance of sugar into their cups. Carrots tasted his, and was just thinking how very nice it was, when it flashed across his mind that he should not have had any sugar. He put down his cup and looked round him in great perplexity. If only he could ask Floss. But Floss was at the other side of the table, she seemed to be drinking her tea without any misgiving. Wasn't it naughty? Could she have forgotten? Carrots grew more and more unhappy; the tears filled his eyes, and his face got scarlet. "What's the matter, dear?" said auntie, who was sitting next him, "is your tea too hot? Has it scalded your poor little mouth?" She said it in a low voice. She was so kind and "understanding," she knew Carrots would not have liked everybody round the table to begin noticing him, and as she looked at him more closely, she saw that the tears in his eyes were those of distress, not of "scalding." "No, thank you," said Carrots, looking up in auntie's face in his perplexity; "it isn't that. My tea is _werry_ good, but it's got sugar in." "And you don't like sugar? Poor old man! Never mind, Cecil will give you another cup. You're not like Sybil in your tastes," said auntie, kindly, and she turned to ask Cecil for some sugarless tea for her little brother.