It was pleasant to be cuddled by this friendly baby, and Jan laid her cheek against the fluffy golden head; but all the time she was watching Tony. He reminded her of someone, and she couldn't think who. He maintained his aloof and unfriendly attitude till Ayah came to take the children to their second breakfast. Little Fay, however, refused to budge, and when the meekly salaaming ayah attempted to take her, made her strong little body stiff, and screamed vigorously, clinging so firmly to her aunt that Jan had herself to carry the obstreperous baby to the nursery, where she left her lying on the floor, still yelling with all the strength of her evidently healthy lungs. When Jan returned, rather dishevelled--for her niece had seized a handful of her hair in the final struggle not to be put down--Fay said almost complacently, "You see, the dear little soul took a fancy to you at once. Tony is much more reserved and not nearly so friendly. He's very Scotch, is Tony." "He does what he's told, anyway." "Oh, not always," Fay said reassuringly, "only when he doesn't mind doing it. They've both got very strong wills." "So have I," said Jan. Fay sighed. "It was time you came to keep them in order. I can't." This was evident, for Fay had not attempted to interfere with her daughter beyond saying, "I expect she's hungry, that's why she's so fretty, poor dear." That afternoon Peter went to the flat and was shown as usual into the sitting-room. Jan and the children were in the verandah, all with their backs to the room, and did not notice his entrance as Jan was singing nursery-rhymes. Fay sat on her knee, cuddled close as though there were no such thing as tempers in the world. Tony sat on a little chair at her side, not very near, but still near enough to manifest a more friendly spirit than in the morning. Peter waited in the background while the song went on. I saw a ship a-sailing, a-sailing on the sea, And it was full of pretty things for Tony, Fay and me. There was sugar in the cabin and kisses in the hold---- "Whose kisses?" Tony asked suspiciously. "Mummy's kisses, of course," said Jan. "Why doesn't it _say_ so, then?" Tony demanded. "Mummy's kisses in the hold," Jan sang obediently-- The sails were made of silk and the masts were made of gold. Gold, gold, the masts were made of gold. "What nelse?" Fay asked before Jan could start the second verse. There were four-and-twenty sailors a-skipping on the deck, And they were little white mice with rings about their neck. The captain was a duck, with a jacket on his back, And when the ship began to sail, the captain cried, "Quack! Quack! Quack! Quack!" The captain cried, "Quack! Quack!" "What nelse?" Fay asked again. "There isn't any nelse, that's all." "Adain," said Fay. "Praps," Tony said thoughtfully, "there was _some_ auntie's kisses in that hold ... just a few...."