"Ha! Do you think I didn't know you all the time?" "Did you really?" inquired his sister, her eyes wide open with surprise. "No, I didn't," he replied curtly. Then Norah's arm stole round her brother's neck, and she put the money into his pocket, and told him gently that she had only wanted to have a little bit of fun, and he was welcome to use her paint-box--only please not on her dolls. Then Wilfrid told her that she was a jolly good sort; and that after all it was a shame to tease her, as she couldn't fight him for it. And Norah hugged him, and they both laughed about how well they had "pretended" to one another. The sun was shining still, and when the children romped on the lawn the stuck-up crocuses didn't have the best of it, after all. THE STORM THE TEAPOT BREWED In a bright nursery, hung with pictures, the table was laid for tea. Upon an iron tray, which had seen much service--even military service, as a drum used by the nursery band--stood the tea-set. This set included a very large cup which belonged to Nurse, bearing the funny inscription, "I am not greedy, but I like a lot." The other cups were also lettered in gold. One hailed, it declared, "From Margate," and showed the pier as a proof. Another, a small one made of porcelain, wished "Many Happy Returns to Effie" every time she looked at it. A thick, fat cup proclaimed itself "A Present to Daniel," and a mug bore the perpetual reminder that it was "For a Good Boy"--but it was cracked, so it didn't look quite happy, perhaps because the reminder was not always capable of keeping the boy good. The Kettle completed the party, but sat comfortably on the warm hob next the fire, drowsily singing snatches of song, in the knowledge of having done his duty in giving the thirsty Teapot a drink of water. So all was ready for tea except the children. Nurse had gone to collect them, when the Chinese Teapot, who always liked to appear important, suddenly exclaimed-- "What a noise that Kettle is making, to be sure! One could scarcely hear one's self rattle if one wanted to." The Kettle, ignoring the protest, sang on-- "Just now we were quiet, No noise and no riot, You could hear a bread-plate drop--Flop!" "We used to have a very nice English teapot once," remarked the Porcelain Cup. "I remember," replied her neighbour from Margate. "He came from Worcestershire. He was a big pot, and thought himself no end of a swell." "What! Kettle-time already!" exclaimed the Tongs, yawning and stretching his legs. "A nice sort of life it is for one of my grade and standing," grumbled the Teapot, "to be surrounded by such a set of ugly, foreign mugs and things as you all are!" There was a general rattling of displeasure at the insult, but it was drowned by the Kettle, who could see a joke, singing up merrily--