Here he hesitated for a moment, then added boldly: "A new mother." "I heartily congratulate you," said Colonel Dermot. Then he sat down by Ruffie's cushioned chair, and Josie and Georgie edged up beside him. It was easy to see that he and the children were on very friendly terms, so Anstice having a letter to write left them together, till tea was brought in by Brenda. "What do you think of her?" Josie asked in a piercing whisper, directly Anstice had disappeared. "I'd rather hear your opinion first," said Colonel Dermot shrewdly. "Josie keeps saying she may be a witch in disguise," said Ruffie eagerly; "but I say she's a princess in disguise. And do you know me and she are going to make a book, and have it printed so that every one will read it? She's writing the story, and I'm doing the pictures, and she bought a little wooden figure from Penrith, which I can copy for my figures; it moves its joints any way you like to put them." "She writes a chapter every day, and reads it to us every evening," put in Georgie; "it's ripping! We hate it when she gets up suddenly and says: 'To be continued in our next,' for that means bedtime." "We're just trying her for a month," said Josie grandly; "if she turns out different, and gets nasty or silly like all the rest, we'll just do to her what we did to the others." "But, you skallywag, she's not a governess but your father's wife! And now I'll tell you what I think of her. I think your Dad has picked out the most beautiful woman and the most lovable in the whole world. And if I hadn't my own dear little wife at home waiting for me, and if she were not already married to your Dad, I would pick her up and run away with her, and marry her myself before you could say Jack Robinson." The children looked at him with big eyes. "Uncle Morky," as they always called him, was a prime favourite of theirs, and his opinion had weight in their eyes. "We shouldn't let you take her," said Ruffie in a bristling tone. "We'd fight for her." "Hum!" said Josie, considering. "Georgie and me aren't sure about that. We'll see when the end of this month comes." "You don't know when you're well off! Here's Brenda coming in. What a tea! You never had teas like this when I was here last." "It's Mrs. Parkins," said Georgie, dancing round the heavily laden tray of cakes and bread and butter which Brenda was carrying. "She sends us hot cakes and scones every day, and you're a visitor, so we have an extra lot. I think Dad would like these teas." "He ought to be here," said Colonel Dermot emphatically. "I'll write and tell him what I think of him." And when he got back to Mrs. Wykeham's that evening, he wrote the following letter before he retired to bed: "DEAR JUSTIN,—