In the afternoon, when the grown-up members of the household drove off in state to attend garden parties at neighbouring mansions, the Captain found it infinitely more enjoyable to punt slowly down the stream, dreaming his own dreams, or listening with a smile while the older child amused her juniors by quaint and adventurous stories. She was always happy, this little Mamzelle Paddy. Another girl of her age might have felt lonely and diffident in this large, bustling household, but she was sunshine personified--content to work, content to play, content to go on an expedition, content to be left behind, having no desires of her own, it would appear, excepting only this one--to love, and be loved by those around. "Some day, Mamzelle," the Captain said, "I will take you and the children a little jaunt on our own account. We will take a boat and go up the river to a dear little spot which I know very well, and there we will have tea and pretend to be Robinson Crusoes on a desert island. It is an island, you know; and we will take a basket of provisions with us, and boil our own kettle, and spread the tablecloth under the trees. Robinson didn't have tablecloths, I believe; but we will improve on the story, and go shopping in the village to see what we can buy." "Wants to go now!" Inda insisted; while Viva executed a war-dance of triumph, and Pixie murmured deeply-- "I love picnics! We had a beauty once when I was young. 'Twas some friends near by, and they asked me and Miles; and ye could smell the cooking coming up the drive--all sorts of things cooked for days before, and packed in hampers. We went there by train--to the place we were going to, I mean--but by bad luck the hampers went somewhere else, through leaving them on the platform without seeing them put in. Ye get very hungry when you are enjoying yourself, and there was nothing to be bought in the village but bread and spring-onions and herrings in barrels. 'Twas a lucky accident, all the same, for we had the picnic, and a party next day to eat up the food." "Well, we'll look after the hamper this time. We should not find even the onions on our island," said the Captain, laughing. "We will ask Mrs Wallace's permission when she comes home, and begin preparations to-morrow morning if it is fine." Mrs Wallace protested that the children were being spoiled by so much kindness, but was delighted to give her consent, and the next morning was happily employed in packing the tea-basket, and purchasing strawberries, cakes, and chocolates from the shops in the village. Several of the visitors pleaded to be allowed to join the party, and tried to wheedle invitations from the children during the luncheon-hour, to their own humiliation and defeat. "You would like to have me with you, wouldn't you, darling? You would like to sit next to me in the boat?" pleaded one pretty young lady of the chubby baby; but Inda wriggled away, and replied sturdily--