"The fourth day that has been foggy and raw and liquid with mud!" Sheila Pat trotted back into the room, her small face pinched, her teeth shut tight to prevent their chattering. "Sheila Pat, you’ve had a cold bath!" "I let the hot tap run a minute." "And the hot water was tepid. Come here." "I’m busy, Nell." Nell went across and seized the shivering little body. Even through the bath-robe she could feel how cold it was. She started rubbing her down with a rough towel. "You’re awfully tiresome, Sheila Pat. If you will be such a baby, I shall have to come and get your bath ready myself." "Y-you all have cold s-sponges!" sulked Sheila Pat, with chattering teeth. "And so will you when you’ve grown bigger and stronger. Didn’t Dr. McCarthy tell you so?" "Is it s-strong? Feel my muscles! I j-just _love_ icy-c-cold baths!" "You look as if you do!" "I think you’re v-very rude, Nell O’Brien!" The Atom, after this dignified retort, relapsed into a cold silence. "Now go and get Molly up, there’s a good Atom," Nell said when Sheila Pat was clothed. "I can hear she’s not moving." The Atom departed. "She’s up now," she announced on her return. "_Well_ up?" "I dipped her sponge in the jug, and squeezed it on her feet. She’s very cross." "I daresay she is. You’re an ingenious little torturer, Sheila Pat." Presently a wild-haired Molly burst into the room. "Oh, Nell, I _can’t_ find any hair-ribbons, and my comb has tumbled down—I stuck it in the window to stop it rattling, and it’s tumbled out—" Nell interrupted, "Here’s a comb and here’s a ribbon." "And Sheila Pat’s made my bed all wet!" "Hurry up! You’ve only three minutes, and you were late down yesterday, you know." "Oh, Nell, _do_ wait for me! I simply _can’t_ come into that room with Aunt Kezia’s eye on me and grim silence!" Sheila Pat had shut the door on her. After breakfast the fog deepened, yellowed; Nell, with her mouth set obstinately, got out her canvas and brushes, and began to paint. "Nell, you _can’t_ see to paint!" exclaimed Molly. "I know I can’t." "Then what are you painting for?" Nell squeezed out cobalt blue recklessly. "My dear child, if we’re to live in a place where it’s always foggy, I’ve got to learn to paint in a thick yellow atmosphere, with the gas alight one minute and out the next. D’you think I’m not going to practise for the next hundred years? Sheila Pat, _don’t_ go near K.K.! You’ll rouse her! Oh, _why_ is she black? Do go on with your copy." "I don’t wish ever to write like my copy," said the Atom, stiffening her straight little back, "so what’s the use of doin’ it now?" "Well, you’ve got to!" said Nell. Sheila Pat arose. "Sheila Pat, where are you going?" "To fetch my snowy-breasted Pearl. I’m afraid he’ll be breakin’ his heart, all alone so long." "You’re to come straight back, then." "I don’t want to, Nell!" "Well, you are to." "I want to take him to visit Herr Smit, Nell."