And then Nathalie led the culprits into a chamber apart, and began to upbraid them, trying to impress their young minds with the enormity of the wrong-doing of which they had been guilty. But the spirit of the cave-dweller was not yet subdued, and, notwithstanding the girl’s persuasiveness, and her pleading attitude in her endeavor to make them see the error of their way, they kept up a wrangling duet of recriminations, each one accusing the other of punching him first, while stubbornly crying, “Now, ye didn’t lick me.” Presently Nathalie, under the strain of overwrought nerves, and the sudden realization of the unforeseen responsibility of her position, burst into tears. Lo, to her amazement, her tears acted like oil on troubled waters, for the next instant a grimy hand tugged at her sleeve, as Danny, with troubled eyes, in a sudden wave of contrition, cried: “Oh, Miss Natty, don’t take on like that. Sure and I’m never goin’ to fight no more.” Meanwhile Tony’s black eyes, in dumb entreaty, grew bigger and bigger, until he, too, in sudden repentance, began to stroke her hand caressingly as his soft, musical voice pleaded, “Please Mees Natta, Tonee, he lova you—he fighta no more.” Peace was making its way into each heart, when the purr of an automobile was heard, and as Nathalie hurried to the window, she saw Mr. Banker whirling under the porte-cochère. As the boys, paroled on their honor, a little later hung around the car, discussing its many merits, they were duly presented to the newcomer. That gentleman evidently liked small boys, for he immediately made arrangements to call for them some day, and take them to Littleton for an all-day good time. The following afternoon Nathalie, holding Sheila by the hand, with Jean by her side, and the two boys in front of her, started to show them the mountains. At the post-office at Sugar Hill village Jean, who had been delegated to act as postman the coming week, was duly initiated into the business of opening the mail-box, an office he accepted with a sudden lighting of his dazed eyes, which Nathalie began to fancy were already losing some of their fear-haunted expression. A short visit was paid to the Sweet-Pea ladies, where they were treated to some maple sugar, Mona very earnest in her endeavors to show sympathy for the little refugee, and her admiration for Sheila. As they hurried away, a bunch of sweet peas was seen on each little breast, pinned there by that gentle lady.