"Pore thing!" she murmured; "it’s a sad end to ’ave. And he must ’ave felt leaving the little one badly ’fore he brought himself to write that letter! Pore thing! Well, I’m not one to bear ill-will for what’s past and gone, and so beyond ’elp now; and I’ll be as much a mother to Sarah as if ’im and me had always been the best of friends. ’E once said I was vulgar--and perhaps I am--it’s vulgar to ’ave ’earts and such like, and he knows better now, pore thing! For I have a ’eart. Yes, and the Queen upon ’er throne, she has a ’eart, too, bless her." There were tears on the good soul’s cheeks as she turned to follow Sarah, whom she found at the gate waiting for her. By the time she had reached the child she had wiped them, but Sarah saw that they had been there. "Dear Auntie," she said. "He wasn’t friends with you, but he knows how good you are now,"--and then she flung her arms round her, and her victory over her uncle’s wife was complete. "Sarah," she said, when they were nearly at the end of their journey, "you have never ’ad any playfellows, have you, dear?" "Never, Auntie--not _real_ playfellows," Sarah answered, and flushing up with joy at the anticipation of those who were in store for her. "Well, I’d better warn you, Sarah--it may not be all sugar and honey till you get used to them," said Mrs. Stubbs solemnly. "There’s a good deal of give and take about children’s ways; that is, if you want to get on peaceable. If you get a knock, you must just bear it without telling, or else you get called a ’tell-pie,’ and treated according. It’s what I’ve never encouraged, and I must do my children the justice to say if they gets a knock they gives it back again, and there’s no more about it." Thus Sarah was somewhat prepared for the darker side of her new life, though she gathered no true idea of the nest of young ruffians to whom she was made known an hour later. They came out with a rush to the door when the carriage stopped, and welcomed their mother home again with a fluent and boisterous torrent of joy truly appalling to the little quiet and retiring Sarah, who was not accustomed to the domestic manners of children of the Stubbs class. "Ma, what have you brought me?" "Is that Sarah, Ma? My, ain’t she a littl’un!" "Ma, Mary was late this morning. Yes, and our kao-kao was burnt--I told her I should tell you." "Pa slapped Johnnie last night, because he wouldn’t be washed to come down to dessert." "And Flossie has torn her best frock." "And May----" "Hush! Be quiet, children!" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, holding her hands to her ears. "’Pon my word, you’re like a lot of young savages. Miss Clark can’t have taken much care of you whilst I’ve bin away. Really, you’re enough to frighten Sarah out of her senses. This is your cousin Sarah. She’s going to live ’ere in future, so come and say ’’Ow d’ye do?’ to her nicely."