Floss hardly felt as if she could care to hear _any_ stories, however pretty. But she did not like to disappoint kind auntie by saying so, especially when auntie told her she really wanted to know if she and Carrots liked her stories, as it would help her to judge if other children would care for them when they were "bounded up into a book." So the next day auntie read them some, and they talked them over and got quite interested in them. Fortunately, she did not read them all that day, for the next day there was still more need of something to distract the children's sorrowful thoughts, as the looked-for letter did not come. Auntie would have liked to cheer the children by reminding them of the old sayings that "No news is good news," and "It is ill news which flies fast," but she dared not, for her own heart was very heavy with anxiety. And she was very glad to see them interested in the rest of the stories for the time. I cannot tell you these stories, but some day perhaps you may come across the little book which they were made into. But there is one of them which I should like to tell you, as it is not very long, and in the children's mind it was always associated with something that happened just as auntie had finished reading it. For it was the last of her little stories, and it was called---- CHAPTER XII. "THE TWO FUNNY LITTLE TROTS." "Like to a double cherry." _Midsummer-Night's Dream._ '"Oh mamma," cried I, from the window by which I was standing, to my mother who was working by the fire, "_do_ come here and look at these two funny little trots."' [Auntie had only read this first sentence of her story when Sybil interrupted her. "Mother dear," she said, in her prim little way, "before you begin, do tell us one thing. Does the story end sadly?" Auntie smiled. "You should have asked me before I _had_ begun, Sybil," she said. "But never mind now. I don't really think I can tell you if it ends sadly or not. It would be like telling you the end at the beginning, and it would spoil the interest, if you understand what that means." "Very well," said Sybil, resignedly, "then I suppose I must wait. But I _won't_ like it if it ends badly, mother, and Floss won't, and Carrots won't. Will you, Floss and Carrots?" "I don't think Floss and Carrots can say, till they've heard it," said auntie. "Now, Sybil, you mustn't interrupt any more. Where was I? Oh yes"]--'"_do_ come and look at these two funny little trots." 'My mother got up from her seat and came to the window. She could not help smiling when she saw the little couple I pointed out to her. '"Aren't they a pair of fat darlings?" I said. "I wonder if they live in our terrace?"