The children, greatly excited, poured after her into what they all thought the sweetest, loveliest bedroom they had ever seen in their lives--which it certainly was. The walls were covered with a pretty creamy paper festooned all over with bunches of pink-tipped daisies tied together with blue ribbons; two little white beds, with snowy curtains and quilts, stood with a table between them. But most fascinating of all was the long, low, lattice-window with its white dimity curtains, and frill across the top. They flew to it to look out, and there before them lay the river winding in and out on its crooked course, and beyond it the moor stretching away, as far as the eye could see, to where, in the distance, it melted into the sky. The beauty of it so fascinated them that it was not until later they noticed all the remaining charms of the room--the little white bookcase full of books, the chairs on either side of the windows, the two white chests of drawers, one for each of them, and provided with a key, too, and the charming blue carpet on the floor. "I hope we don't do any harm," said Esther nervously. To her, accustomed to the shabby bare rooms at home, ill-kept and untidy, it looked almost too dainty and pretty to use. "I am quite sure you will not," said Miss Ashe, who appeared to have no fears. "Now this is the sunniest side of the house, and I think, perhaps, the Poppy ought to have the sun." Poppy laughed. The idea pleased her, and, as though to claim possession, threw her hat on to one of the chairs. "Now, come along, or tea will be ready before we are." Out they trooped excitedly, each delighted in her own particular way. "That is my room," said Miss Ashe, touching the next door, which was closed. "My window looks towards the station, along the road we came just now." She did not say she had given up the pretty room they had just quitted, in order that they might have the sunshine. At the back of the square gallery she threw open another door. "This is your other room," she said; and Penelope, who was standing by her, gave one long, low cry of pleasure, and was across the room in a moment. "Oh!" she gasped, "oh my!" She could not find words to express the feelings which rushed over her as her eyes fell on the view without--the pretty garden full of flowers, enclosed within a stone wall, and beyond that the old brown moor stretching far and wide in every direction, until it broke like a brown sea about the foot of the distant hills. Here and there were lesser tors and piles of rock, and little footpaths through the heather, and pools which gleamed with a cold light in the light of the evening sky. It was wild, weird, fascinating.