Miss Marigold was in the garden tying up the sunflowers as Jack and Molly passed her cottage, which was the fourth one along the village street. Such a quaint little village street it was, with cobbled stones, and grass growing in the roadway, and bunchy white cottages with thatched roofs. The children did not know the name of the lady in the garden, of course, and were just wondering where Miss Marigold lived, when they saw a card hanging in the window, on which was printed: MISS MARIGOLD _Teas Provided. Apartments._ They stopped. Miss Marigold looked up from her flowers and saw two tired little faces looking at her over the gate. Miss Marigold was tall and thin and looked neither old nor young, but between the two. Her thick hair, which was of a pale yellow colour, was neatly braided round her head; she was dressed in a dark green dress with snow-white collar and cuffs. She looked kind when she smiled, and as she smiled when she saw the children they made up their minds to stay there if they could. So they opened the gate and entered her garden. She listened while they told her who they were and what they wanted. “I shall be pleased to give you accommodation,” she said in her gentle, stiff little manner. “And you would like a cup of hot tea and some toasted muffins at once, I’m sure.” Jack and Molly felt that there was nothing they would like more than tea and muffins, but they told Miss Marigold that they had no money with them, and asked her what they could do for her to earn their tea, bed, and breakfast. “Nothing at all. You are searching for the Black Leaf—that is enough. You will have done more for me, and for the whole country, than can ever be repaid, if you find it,” said Miss Marigold, and led the way into her cottage, which was quaint and old-fashioned, with low, oak-beamed ceilings and sloping floors. The children had a refreshing wash, then sat down to a well-spread table—hot tea, and toasted muffins and eggs, and brown bread and butter, and honey, and fresh fruit. Over tea they told Miss Marigold about their search, and the latest doings of the Pumpkin. Miss Marigold had never actually seen the Pumpkin, but she had heard much about him, of course, and was very interested in the children’s account. “We have only just received news, in the village here, that the Pumpkin has returned. One of the villagers, who went to the city, came riding back over the Goblin’s Heath with the news,” she told the children. While they were talking they heard footsteps on the garden path outside the window, and then came a tap at the door. Jack and Molly started. But Miss Marigold rose leisurely saying, with a shake of her head, “I told him not to stay as late as this.” Then she opened the door. “Ah! come in, Timothy,” she said.