But the three boys threw themselves on him--"A bit of Willy Wud; just a little bit of Willy Wud," they pleaded. James Seton was an inspired teller of tales, and Willy Wud was one of his creations. His adventures--and surely no one ever had stranger and more varied adventures--made a sort of serial story for "after tea" on winter evenings. "Where did we leave him?" he asked, sitting down obediently. "Don't you remember, Father?" said Buff. "In the Robbers' Cave." "He was just untying that girl," said Thomas. "She wasn't a girl," corrected Billy, "she was a princess." "It's the same thing," said Thomas. "He was untying her when he found the Robber Chief looking at him with a knife in his mouth." So the story began and ended all too soon for the eager listeners, and Mr. Seton hurried away to his work. "Say good-night, Thomas and Billy," said Elizabeth, "and run home. It's very nearly bed-time." "To-morrow's Saturday," said Thomas suggestively. "So it is. Ask 'Mamma' if you may come to tea, and come over directly you have had dinner." Thomas looked dissatisfied. "Couldn't I say to Mamma you would like us to come to dinner? Then we could come just after breakfast. You see, there's that house we're building----" "I'm going to buy nails with my Saturday penny," said Billy. "By all means come to dinner," said Elizabeth, "if Mamma doesn't mind. Good-night, sonnies--now run." She opened the front-door for them, and watched them scud across the road to their own gate--then she went back to the drawing-room. "I must be going too," said Miss Christie, sitting back more comfortably in her chair. "It's Band of Hope night," said Elizabeth. Buff had been marching up and down the room, with Launcelot in his arms, telling himself a story, but he now came and leant against his sister. She stroked his hair as she asked, "What's the matter, Buffy boy?" "I wish," said Buff, "that I lived in a house where people didn't go to meetings." "But I'm not going out till you're in bed. We shall have time for reading and everything. Say good-night to Christina, and see if Ellen has got your bath ready. And, Buff," she said, as he went out of the door, "pay particular attention to your knees--scrub them with a brush; and don't forget your fair large ears, my gentle joy." "Those boys are curiosities," said Miss Christie. "What house is this they're building?" "It's a Shelter for Homeless Cats," said Elizabeth, "made of orange boxes begged from the grocer. I think it was Buff's idea to start with, but Thomas has the clever hands. Must you go?" "These chairs are too comfortable," said Miss Christie, as she rose; "they make one lazy. If I were you, Elizabeth, I wouldn't let Buff talk to himself and tell himself stories. He'll grow up queer.... You needn't laugh." "I'm very sorry, Christina. I'm afraid we're a frightfully eccentric family, but you'll come and see us all the same, won't you?"