"But that would be the wolf, Floss," said Carrots, pressing closer to his sister. It was no wolf, but a nice, tidy-looking woman with a white cap and a baby in her arms who opened the door, and stood staring at the two little wayfarers in bewilderment. Floss grew afraid that she was angry. "I'm very sorry--I mean I beg your pardon," she began. "I didn't know this was your house. We thought perhaps it was auntie's. Can you tell me, please, where Greenmays is?" "This _is_ Greenmays," said the woman. Floss stared: the door opened right into the kitchen, it couldn't be auntie's house. "This is the lodge," continued the woman. "If it's someone at the big house you're wanting, you must just go straight up the drive. I'd show you the way," she went on, "but my husband's up at the stables and it's too cold for baby. You seem wet and tired, you do--have you come far?" "Yes," said Floss, wearily, "_very_ far. We thought auntie would meet us at the station, but there wasn't anybody." "They must be kin to the housekeeper, surely," thought the woman. And yet something indescribable in Floss's manner, and in the clear, well-bred tones of her small, childish voice, prevented her asking if this was so. "I wish I could go with you to the house," she repeated, curiosity and kindliness alike prompting her, "but," she added, looking doubtfully at the sleeping child in her arms, "I'm afeared for baby." "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you," said Floss, "we can find the way, I daresay. Good evening," and taking Carrots by the hand, she turned to go. "Good evening," said little Carrots also. "Good evening, and I hope you'll find your auntie in," said the woman. And for a few minutes she stood at the door straining her eyes after the two forlorn little figures till she could distinguish them no longer in the darkness of the trees bordering the avenue. "Who can they be?" she said to herself. "Such a pretty spoken, old-fashioned little pair I never did see!" CHAPTER XI. HAPPY AND SAD. "'Tis gone--and in a merry fit They run upstairs in gamesome race. * * * A moment's heaviness they feel, A sadness at the heart." _The Mother's Return._ It was very dark in the drive and Carrots crept close to Floss. But Floss felt far less afraid of the dark than of the light! when at last the house came in view and the brightly lit up windows shone out into the gloom. "Oh, what a big house," said Floss. "Oh Carrots, how I do wish that little cottage had been auntie's house, even though the door did open right into the kitchen. Don't you Carrots?" "I don't know," replied Carrots, "auntie will be very kind to us, won't she, Floss?" "Oh yes," said Floss, "but supposing she is having a party to-night, Carrots?" "Well, we could have tea in the nursery, and go to bed," said Carrots philosophically. "Oh Floss, _wouldn't_ you like some nice hot tea and bread and butter?"