The hugs were given in plentiful measure and then Turly, who had been standing aside, looking rather abashed, plucked up courage and remained by Gran'ma's knee. He was a sturdily-built little fellow, with large, dark eyes and a square forehead, ordinarily rather silent and slow in his movements. The contrast between him and the light-limbed, quick-speaking Terry was remarkable, and to no one more obvious than to Turly himself, who had the most adoring admiration of his lively sister. "Are they to have their tea in the nursery, madam?" asked Nurse Nancy, who had been standing by, a witness of Granny's attempt and failure to scold. "No, Nancy; no! Terencia is going to be good. They must have tea with me here. Just put them into their evening clothes and bring them back to me." After half an hour's manipulation from Nurse Nancy the children returned to Granny, who in the meanwhile had dozed in her chair, quite worn out with the fatigues of expectation, and the necessity for being angry. Nothing remained of the afternoon's excitement to Madam but the touch of fresh young lips on her cheeks, and of warm, young arms clasping her round the neck. When she opened her eyes they rested on a meek-looking little gentlewoman in a white frock, with a blue silk work-bag hanging by long blue ribbons from her arm. "Miss Goodchild taught me to make it, Granny, and she said you would like me to have it; and I have worked you such a pretty linen cover for your prayer-book; Nancy is going to unpack it after tea. And doesn't Turly look sweet in his velvet knickers? The pockets of his other things are all gone in holes with marbles. And oh, Turly, only see what a lovely tea Granny is going to give us! Honey, jam, brown bread, hot tea-cakes! Turly is so fond of sweeties, you know, Gran'ma." "Rather," said Turly, which was the first word he had uttered since he escaped with his life from the car. The candles and lamps were now lighted in Granny's handsome sitting-room, and a huge turf fire burned on the hearth, for it was a wintry evening. The tea-table had been placed to one side, near Granny's chair, and as Madam laughed heartily at Terencia's prattle no one could have suggested that the coming of this bright little creature had been as a nightmare to the old lady for many weeks past. But after the children were gone to bed Madam Trimleston said to Nancy: "I must say a few words to Lally. Ask him to come up here and speak to me." Very soon heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stair, and Michael Lally, the coachman, was seen standing in the doorway. "God bless ye and good evenin' to ye, madam! It's glad I am to see you lookin' so well, madam." "Thank you, Lally!" It was hard to begin to find fault after so genial a greeting. "But I want to ask you a question, Lally. How am I to entrust my children to your care after what happened this afternoon?"