"You may bite my head off, if you like," he said valiantly, protruding that member forward; “I'm not a bit afraid of you."

"And who are you, my valiant little man?"

"You're my grandmother, and you've got a farm, and we've come to see you because we're so tired of the girls. We'll help you to drive the cows and the pigs. We're going to be farmers, Bunny and I, like Tor. Tor will teach us when his head doesn't always ache."

Bunny then put in his word, holding out his small brown hand as he did so.

"We thought it was time we made your acquaintance-Tor said so. Tor is very kind to us, though nobody else is. He told us how to come; and he took us to the station himself, though it did make his head ache to go in a cab, because it was a secret; and if the girls had found out, they might

have stopped us. That would have been like the dog in the manger, for they can't bear coming here themselves-I've often heard them say so; but we thought it would be nice, and Tor said he was very happy here when he was a little boy. So I hope you will keep us and let us stay with you. Oh, and I hope you are very well."

The old lady did not attempt to interrupt this long speech, but sat erect in her chair, looking at the two children with great steadiness. She was a very

handsome old lady, though her face was not soft and tender, as some people's are when they have reached her years. Yet it was a face that many people liked to look at, and Bunny found his eyes riveted upon it as he proceeded with his discourse. Curly was also looking at her. Some people found those clear, keen eyes hard to meet, but not so the children.

"I like you," he said suddenly, as soon as Bunny had finished what he was saying—“ I like you, and I want to stay with you a whole long time."

"Ring the bell, Phyllis," was all the direct answer made to these advances. Phyllis stepped within the room, and meantime nobody spoke, and the little interlopers stood looking curiously about them.

It was a funny house-there could be no two opinions as to that. This south front which they could see, running along the wide terrace-walk, was all built of grey stone, over which creepers of every kind seemed to be growing. There was only one story over the ground-floor rooms, and all the windows, both above and below, were divided into little narrow partitions by heavy stone mullions, and the glass was all in queer little leaded panes, just as the children had sometimes seen it in very old churches. Some of the windows projected out in little bays or oriels, as they found they were called, and the whole house looked as if it had been

jumbled up together all anyhow-as Curly afterwards told his grandmother, when they were on more intimate terms. But though they were very much puzzled and surprised at the way the house was built, they began to feel very much delighted too, for it could not be denied that there was something very romantic about such a place, and if they could not live in historical times themselves, at least it was something to live in a house that had been a house when history had been going on.

Bunny explained all this afterwards to Curly, who was still rather disposed to be sorry that the place was not a real farm-house. But at least there was consolation in the thought that the farm was not very far off, and meantime they must make the best of things as they were.

The pause on the terrace was interrupted by the arrival upon the scene of a sober and highly respectable butler.

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"Watkins," said the old lady, "tell Mrs. Blake to have the nurseries got ready immediately. Two young gentlemen will want them to-night."

"Yes, my lady."

"And send to the station for their luggage—I suppose you brought a box with you?"

"No, only our night-things in parcels," answered Bunny, displaying his. "Tor said we could have our things sent after us, if you decided to keep us, We

should have been found out if we had packed a box and taken it away with us. When boys run away they never have luggage, you know."

If the man-servant was surprised by this answer, at least he gave no sign. He stood awaiting farther orders like a block of stone.

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Phyllis," said the old lady, as unmoved as her servant, "just send a telegram to Miss Chesterton asking that the children's things be sent here immediately. Let the telegram be sent off at once, Watkins."

"And send Hannah here at once." "Yes, my lady."

In a few minutes appeared a smiling, buxom, elderly woman, in an old-fashioned cap and with a white muslin neckerchief pinned crosswise over the front of her dress.

She looked at the children with

an air of benignant curiosity.

"These two young gentlemen have come on a visit," said the mistress, briefly; "they will be your special charges. Take them to your room to have tea this afternoon, till the nurseries are got ready. They can come in to dessert if you will make them tidy."

And Bunny and Curly, who felt by this time exactly as if they were living in a book, were marched off by the elderly woman to pastures new, and adventures of which they had never dreamed.

CHAPTER III

WELL, I should like to know a little more about this sudden incursion," remarked Lady Chesterton, as she helped each of her small grandsons to forced strawberries and rich cream, which luxuries made Curly open his eyes wide in astonishment, for it had not occurred to him to associate strawberries with any months earlier than June and July. "What was it set you off here, my little men? You have never paid me a visit before."

"No," answered Curly, we never thought of such a thing. You see the girls all said it was hor rid at your house, and they never went unless they were sent, and so we never thought it could be nice -though to be sure we might have guessed that the girls would be sure to say stupid things about everything. It was Tor who told us how nice it Poor Tor! I wish he could be here too."

was.

"Why did he send you?"

“Well, you see we were so dull, and we wanted to do something different from everything we'd ever done before-"