Of course Mollie had to hear about the adventure of the brandy-balls, and from that the talk drifted to memories of old friends long since dead and gone, whose names Mollie had never heard. It was a little depressing, and her thoughts wandered away to the Campbells. She wondered where she would find herself that afternoon, and then remembered with dismay that Aunt Mary was away and there would be no tunes. But after lunch Grannie insisted upon the sofa as usual. "You shall have your lullaby," she said. "Mrs. Pell and I are going to play duets. We used to play a great deal together when we were young, and no doubt our music is just the thing for sending you to sleep; it has a base and a treble and some perfectly distinct tunes." "Don't be sarcastic, Grannie," Mollie laughed, as Grannie bent to kiss her. "I am sure it is beautiful music, and I like tunes myself. Jean is the musical one of our family. She jiggles up and down the piano in no particular key and calls it 'The Scent of Lilac on a June Day'." "Well, well," said Grannie. "Times change. We are going to play selections from _Faust_, with variations. Sleep quietly till tea-time, my dear." Mollie smiled as she listened to the selections. "--two-three, _one_-two-three, _one_--" she could hear the treble counting. "I like it," she murmured to herself rather sleepily--the morning's conversation had not been exciting on her side. "I am glad I am not James, for this is an awfully comfortable sofa--hullo, Prue! You _are_ in a hurry to-day! I was just thinking of a nap--" Prudence did not answer; she was listening to the piano. "Mamma sings that," she said. "It's _Faust_. I adore _Faust_. Don't you? The waltz simply makes my feet go wild." "I don't know it," Mollie confessed. "There are so many things I don't know. Hurry up, Prue. I have had such an aged morning; now I want a young afternoon." "--two-three, _one_-two-three, _one_--" said Prue, taking Mollie's hand in her own. * * * * * It was very hot. So hot that Mollie could not be bothered to move. She was half-sitting, half-lying on a bed of bracken, and around her she could see the supine forms of four other children--Prudence and Grizzel, Dick and Jerry--all lying in various attitudes of exhaustion and apparently all asleep. Mollie was too lazy to turn her head, but she could see that they were in a wood. The trees were the eternal gum trees, with their monotonous grey trunks and perpetual blue-green foliage. They were not growing in the neighbourly manner of trees in an English wood, nor did they throw the cool green shade of elms and beeches, but still in their own way they formed a wood. Mollie lay with her back propped up against one of the grey trunks, her arms behind her head, and her eyes blinking sleepily. She wondered where Hugh was.