Any one would think that things were bad enough like this, but it was much worse when Macassar Oil’s grandmother came to stay too. She wasn’t any relation of ours really, but she told us to call her Aunt Arabella, and so we did, although we didn’t want to. I didn’t like her from the first, though I never guessed that she’d take to watching us as well as Cousin Florence. But the most insulting part was that we found out they did it because they didn’t like to leave Lionel alone with us. They said that we were so rough and would hurt him or something, just because Humphrey once knocked him down, and as Lionel is eleven months older, I’m sure he ought to have been ashamed not to be able to take care of himself. Besides that was before Mother told us about Bayard. Another horrid thing that Cousin Florence and Aunt Arabella did, was always to make out that Lionel had won in races, and if Fräulein, our governess, was there, she was just as bad, and they didn’t seem to think it dreadful when Lionel cheated or anything, but only said to one another, in French, how sweet he looked with his golden hair and things like that. Well, we tried to bear it and be good--we really did. It was most unlucky that just the day when I was feeling particularly cross with Lionel, because he’d gone in to lunch with the grown-ups, and Humph and I were too untidy, that I happened to see the picture of Samson in the old scrap-book. I won’t tell you more about it now, because you’ll understand better further on, but it was that picture that put the whole thing into my head. I’d better say at once that of course we knew that what we meant to do was naughty, though we pretended to ourselves that it wasn’t; but we really didn’t know _how_ naughty it was until Mother told us afterwards. Besides, we didn’t wait to let ourselves think, which Mother says is always a mistake, for it was directly after lunch that it all happened. I don’t think I’ve said that in the afternoon Lionel always went to sleep; he really does just as if he were a baby, only on hot days Cousin Florence sometimes puts a rug and cushions and things for him in the garden. Then every one used to leave him, for we children were only too glad to get away, and so they didn’t think they need watch over him any more. That afternoon it was very warm, and it all went most conveniently. Instead of going up to the orchard though, as we generally did when Lionel rested, we hid in the laurel bushes. Then as soon as Cousin Florence had gone into the house I crept out. Lionel was still awake, and I made him put his head on my knees. I felt rather mean at that part, but it couldn’t be helped, for that’s what Delilah really did, and Lionel didn’t mind, because he likes any one to cuddle him, instead of only his mother like most people. Then I sat quite still though I got the most awful pins and needles in my left foot.