"Go and wash your hands, children," she said, in a voice that matched her looks, "and smooth your hair. I am _surprised_ at you coming into the room like this. I don't know what your visitor will think, I am sure. Children have _very_ different manners in England." Mollie glanced round at the other three. She herself stood behind Miss Hilton and was therefore not within that lady's line of vision. She winked largely with her left eye, and a smile of relief travelled round the room. Tea was a silent meal in spite of the festive damper, which was so good that Mollie thought it must have alleviated the unfortunate lot of the Children of Israel considerably. Hugh was thinking out his plan for making attar of roses; Prue was day-dreaming about nothing in particular, as she was too fond of doing; Grizzel's mind was wandering away to golden bowls, golden cherries, and other possible and some quite impossible golden achievements; while Mollie listened to Baby, who carried on a long and intimate conversation with a family of bread-and-butter--otherwise the beddy-buts--which had found a temporary home upon her plate. Miss Hilton poured out tea absent-mindedly, and seldom spoke except to rebuke someone for putting elbows on the table. As soon as the meal was over the children went into the garden again, and, once outside, their tongues began to move. "I shall nab Baby's bronchitis-kettle," Hugh announced, "and make a distiller, and we can begin to-morrow. You girls will have to help me, for I must watch the distilling all the time, and someone must keep me supplied with fresh rose-petals." "I can't do much, because I'm going to make jam," said Grizzel, "and I want Prue and Mollie to help me to gather cherries. I've got one or two new ideas"--Mollie thought the family seemed great on ideas--"but, if you'll solder up my jam tins, I'll help with your attar." "I'll tell you what," said Prue, "we'll have a secret breakfast." "What's a secret breakfast?" asked Mollie. "You'll see in a minute," Prue answered. "It's a lovely thing. Then we'll get up and pull the cherries and cut them open, and we can pick the roses afterwards, when they are warm and dry." "Then we had better get the things ready now," said Grizzel. So while Hugh went off to a little old hut, which served them for a playroom, to build up his distillery, the three girls set out to inspect the cherry trees, and engaged in the pleasing task of tasting a few cherries off each tree to decide which had the finest flavour. "I think they are all absolutely topping," said Mollie. "I don't know how you can tell which is best." "What funny words you use," said Grizzel. "Topping!" "Well--top-hole then, or ripping, or great, or first-class, or jolly good." Both hearers laughed. "You had better not let Miss Hilton hear you," said Prue, "or she will tell Mamma, and then you will have to write out 'topping' a hundred times."