After this it became the custom for waves to be exchanged between the children and the 9.15. And the children, especially the girls, liked to think that perhaps the old gentleman knew Father, and would meet him 'in business,' wherever that shady retreat might be, and tell him how his three children stood on a rail far away in the green country and waved their love to him every morning, wet or fine. For they were now able to go out in all sorts of weather such as they would never have been allowed to go out in when they lived in their villa house. This was Aunt Emma's doing, and the children felt more and more that they had not been quite fair to this unattractive aunt, when they found how useful were the long gaiters and waterproof coats that they had laughed at her for buying for them. Mother, all this time, was very busy with her writing. She used to send off a good many long blue envelopes with stories in them--and large envelopes of different sizes and colours used to come to her. Sometimes she would sigh when she opened them and say:-- “Another story come home to roost. Oh, dear, Oh, dear!” and then the children would be very sorry. But sometimes she would wave the envelope in the air and say:--“Hooray, hooray. Here's a sensible Editor. He's taken my story and this is the proof of it.” At first the children thought 'the Proof' meant the letter the sensible Editor had written, but they presently got to know that the proof was long slips of paper with the story printed on them. Whenever an Editor was sensible there were buns for tea. One day Peter was going down to the village to get buns to celebrate the sensibleness of the Editor of the Children's Globe, when he met the Station Master. Peter felt very uncomfortable, for he had now had time to think over the affair of the coal-mine. He did not like to say “Good morning” to the Station Master, as you usually do to anyone you meet on a lonely road, because he had a hot feeling, which spread even to his ears, that the Station Master might not care to speak to a person who had stolen coals. 'Stolen' is a nasty word, but Peter felt it was the right one. So he looked down, and said Nothing. It was the Station Master who said “Good morning” as he passed by. And Peter answered, “Good morning.” Then he thought:-- “Perhaps he doesn't know who I am by daylight, or he wouldn't be so polite.” And he did not like the feeling which thinking this gave him. And then before he knew what he was going to do he ran after the Station Master, who stopped when he heard Peter's hasty boots crunching the road, and coming up with him very breathless and with his ears now quite magenta-coloured, he said:-- “I don't want you to be polite to me if you don't know me when you see me.” “Eh?” said the Station Master. “I thought perhaps you didn't know it was me that took the coals,” Peter went on, “when you said 'Good morning.' But it was, and I'm sorry. There.”