They climbed two wide flights of stairs. “This is where I am going to put you and Edward and Jim,” Aunt Caroline said, opening the door of a large bedroom, whose three windows overlooked the croquet-lawn. Grif surveyed it quietly. Already it showed abundant signs of occupation. Jim, in a moment of enthusiasm, must have begun to unpack, for his own and Grif’s things were scattered broadcast on the beds and the chairs and the floor. “May I look at the other rooms too, Aunt Caroline?” he asked politely, after a moment’s pause. Aunt Caroline seemed rather puzzled. “Don’t you like it? I thought you’d rather not be separated, and this is the biggest room in the house.” “Oh yes, I like it very much. It’s not that.” “What is it, then?” “It’s just that I love looking round. Are any of the rooms near the wood?” She led him along a passage, through a swing-door, up a flight of three stairs, and then along another passage at the end of which she opened a door. Grif walked straight to the window. As he leaned out he could see the wood. It was quite close to him indeed, and he could hear the faint murmur it made, as of many whispering voices. He stood there dumb, and Aunt Caroline guessed that she had made a mistake. She watched him struggle against a desire to tell her that he preferred this room, but his natural politeness conquered. “Thank you very much,” he said, turning to go out. “Would you like to sleep here?” she asked, half laughing. He looked up quickly. “With Pouncer? Would you let me?” “But surely Pouncer sleeps outside?” “Yes.... Would you allow him to sleep here with me?” There was no importunity in his words, but she knew he was hanging eagerly on what she should say. “You’re the queerest little fish! Of course you can please yourself. It doesn’t matter in the least what room you choose. Only, you will be all alone here: no one else is on this side of the house.” “I like the trees,” he apologized, “and I shall be able to watch them in the mornings.” Aunt Caroline too came to the window. “The trees are just what I don’t like,” she said. “Sometimes, in the autumn and the winter, when it’s really stormy, they make a tremendous noise, and it sounds so dismal at night. However, I don’t suppose we shall have much wind during the summer, and of course if you find you are being kept awake you can always change your quarters.” CHAPTER III NEW ARRIVALS ‘Boys are for the most part cattle of this colour.’ ――_Shakespeare._ Grif wandered out on to the croquet-lawn, where the others were knocking balls against hoops in a desultory fashion, all playing at once, and arguing at the tops of their voices. “Where have _you_ been?” asked Jim, trying to stand on the winning-peg, which at once sank over sideways, levering up a portion of the ground. “Oh Jim, see what you’ve done!” Ann exclaimed in dismay.