"Truly I would the gods had made thee poetical." _As You Like It._ In the Seton's drawing-room a company was gathered for tea. Ellen had remembered Elizabeth's instructions, and a large fire of logs and coal burned in the white-tiled grate. A low round table was drawn up before the fire, and on it tea was laid--a real tea, with jam and scones and cookies, cake and shortbread. On the brass muffin-stool a pile of buttered toast was keeping warm. James Seton, who dearly loved his tea, was already seated at the table and was playing with the little green-handled knife which lay on his plate as he talked to Elizabeth's friend, Christina Christie. Thomas and Billy sat on the rug listening large-eyed to Buff, who was telling them an entirely apocryphal tale of how he had found an elephant's nest in the garden. Launcelot lay on a cushion fast asleep. "Elizabeth is late," said Mr. Seton. "I think I hear her now," said Miss Christie; and a moment later the drawing-room door opened and Elizabeth put her head in. "Have I kept you all waiting for tea? Ah! Kirsty bless you, my dear. No, I can't come in as I am. Just give me one minute to remove these odious garments--positively one minute, Father. Yes, Ellen, bring tea, please." The door closed again. "And the egg was as big as a roc's egg," went on Buff. "You never saw a roc's egg," Thomas reminded him, "so how can you know how big they are?" "I just know," said Buff, with dignity. "Father, how big is a roc's egg?" "A roc's egg," said Mr. Seton thoughtfully. "A great white thing, Sindbad called it, 'fifty good paces round.' As large as this room, Buff, anyway. Ah! here's your sister." "Now for tea," said Elizabeth, seating herself behind the teacups. "Sit on this side, Kirsty; you'll be too hot there. What a splendid fire Ellen has given us. Well, Thomas, my son, what do you want first? Bread-and-butter? That's right! Pass Billy some butter, Buff. I wouldn't begin with a cookie if I were you. No, not jam with the first bit, extravagant youth. Now, Kirsty, do put out your hand, as Marget would say, because, as you know, we have no manners in this house." "I am having an excellent tea," said Miss Christie. "Ellen said you were collecting this afternoon, Elizabeth." "Oh, Kirsty, my dear, I was. In the Gorbals, in the rain, begging for shillings for Women's Foreign Missions. And I didn't get them all in either, and I shall have to go back. Father, I'm frightfully intrigued to know what Mr. Martin does. What is his walk in life? Go any time you like, he's always in the house. Can he be a night-watchman?" Mr. Seton helped himself to a scone. "I had an idea," he said, "that Martin was a cabinet-maker, but he may have retired." "Perhaps," said Buff, "he's a Robber. Robbers don't go out through the day, only at night with dark lanterns, and come in with sacks of booty." Elizabeth laughed.