"Ah, Peg, I know what you are thinking. The old home is not like itself without the boys. I feel it too, dear, I feel it too. Not a single boy would we have had in the place, if Rob had not taken pity on us, bless him! It seems so strange after having had so many of them all these years." "It seems very quiet and peaceful, if you ask me! and if I'm _not_ a boy, I've been away, and I do think I deserve a little attention!" cried Mellicent, aggrieved. "If it had been Max who had come home, you wouldn't all be crying and moaning for the girls. You would forget there were such things in the world. It's not our fault that we happen to be girls, and we have our feelings all the same. No one speaks to me! No one says they are pleased to see me! No one makes the slightest fuss because I am home!" "Darling!" cried her mother, and rushed to take her in her arms. "My precious baby, I'm just delighted to have you back; but you know how it is--the thought of old times made me sad for the moment. We seemed such a small party without the boys." Mellicent grimaced and hitched her shoulders in petulant fashion. Then she looked at Peggy, and a flash of amusement passed from eye to eye. "Let's have tea!" she said shortly. "It's good for the spirits, and we are both hungry. It's to be in the schoolroom, I suppose, mother, as we asked. Peggy died to have tea there again, and was so afraid that it would be laid out in style in the drawing-room that she made me ask you to have it exactly the same as in the old times. I told her it was no use, that you would have out all the best things, whatever we said." "But you didn't, Mrs Asplin, did you? There are halfpenny buns, aren't there, and scones, and damson jam, and the old thick cups and saucers?"