"They'll be here in a few minutes, children," she said; "and don't forget that I'm here to take your parts. Bless you, poor orphans--bless you!" Then she disappeared downstairs. "Oh dear! Oh dear!" I said. "For goodness' sake," said Alex, moving away from the table, "don't begin to snivel, whatever you do, Dumps. She's a mighty silly old woman." "Oh, what a supper!" said Charley. He gave a sigh of profound satisfaction. After a minute he said, "Whatever sort of a step-mother she is, I am going to eat! I say, what a supper!" He had scarcely uttered the words before the sound of a cab stopping outside the front door was distinctly heard. "Shall we all go into the hall?" asked Alex. "I'm not going to stir," I answered. "Nor I," said Charley. "I can't keep my eyes off the supper. I'm awfully afraid it's a sort of fairy feast, and will vanish if I don't keep gazing and gazing at it." The bell was pulled violently. Hannah came hurrying up the stairs. She bustled into the hall. Charley went on tiptoe to the door of the parlour. He came back again on tiptoe, with his eyes rounder than ever. "What do you think?" he said. "Hannah has got a white satin favour pinned upon her dress. Would you believe it? What a turncoat she is!" "She's not," I answered. "She had to do it. We must be outwardly civil." "Yes, yes; that's it," said Alex. "And for the sake of the supper it's worth while," said Charley. The hall door was opened. My father's step was heard coming in; this was followed by a lighter, much younger step. Then a cheerful voice said, "Well, here we are.--And you are Hannah, I think? I have often heard of you." "The hypocrite!" I muttered; but Alex said, "Hush! Remember our compact." "I have often heard of you," said the cheerful voice. "How do you do?" Hannah's reply was so muttered that it could not be heard in the parlour. Then father said, "Where are the children? Dumps! Alex! Charley! Come along at once!" We all made a rush to the parlour door. We had to rush or we should not have moved at all. We went into the hall. I felt at that supreme moment that if I had not known Miss Grace Donnithorne in the past, and had not really liked her very much, not to say almost loved her, I could have borne my present position better. But having already known her, the present position was almost unbearable. Nevertheless, things that seem unbearable have now and then to be faced in life. My father called in his cheerful tones, "Well, children, well! here we are back. Here's your new mother. I trust you will all be as dutiful as she deserves. I am sure it is very good of her to come and look after such harum-scarums as you are. Now then, Dumps, you give her a right royal welcome." "How do you do?" I said.