"How am I to carve the wretched thing?" shrieked Miss Lowe. "I hardly know where its wings are! I've never before seen a chicken served absolutely _au naturel_!" "I expect it to rise up and walk!" hinnied Miss Barton. "It seems hardly decent to have left its claws on! Look at the sauce! It's simply bread and milk! Oh, for the fleshpots of Egypt!" A ground-rice pudding which followed proved equally astonishing. Miss Lowe had suggested that an egg would be an improvement in its composition, and behold! when it made its appearance there was an egg neatly poached in the middle. The giggling guests rather enjoyed the episode than otherwise. They had come to be entertained, and they certainly found plenty to amuse them, especially in the humorous attitude with which their hostesses viewed all the little inconveniences. "Perhaps we shall do better at tea-time," said Miss Barton hopefully. "Mrs. Marsden surely can't go very wrong there. We're going to walk to the woods this afternoon. I've bespoken Jenny, the fourth child, as a guide. She's the most quaintly fascinating person. I hope she won't be long; we're waiting for her now." The girls were all impatience to start for the woods, so, as their little guide was already late, Miss Barton went to the kitchen in search of her, and found her concluding a somewhat lengthy toilet with the assistance of her family. The choicest possessions of several members, in assorted sizes, seemed to have been commandeered, and she was finally turned out in a red serge dress, a black jacket much too large, a feather boa, and a pair of woollen gloves, which, considering that it was quite a hot day, was rank cruelty, though--true daughter of Eve as she was--she seemed so pleased with her appearance that nothing would induce her to pull off her suffocating grandeur. She was not at all shy, and very old-fashioned for her seven years. The girls found her conversation most entertaining as they walked along. "She is absolutely refreshing!" giggled Raymonde. "The way she shakes out her skirts and manoeuvres the sleeves of the big jacket is perfectly lovely. She ought to be a mannikin when she grows up, and try on coats and mantles in shops. Wouldn't she just enjoy it?" To Jenny an expedition with six ladies was apparently the opportunity of a lifetime, and she was determined to make the most of it. She volunteered to recite, and wound out a long poem in such a rapid, breathless monotone that it was hardly possible to distinguish a word. The party politely expressed gratitude, whereupon she announced: "I'll say it for you again!" and plunged at once into an encore. "For pity's sake stop her! I'm getting hysterical!" gurgled Morvyth. "She's like a gramophone record that's rather blurred and has been set too fast. Thank goodness, here's the wood! She can't recite while she's climbing that stile."