"I'm sorry I was so angry, darlings, because I know you didn't
understand."

"We didn't mean to be naughty, Mammy," sobbed Bobbie, and Peter and
Phyllis sniffed.

"Now, listen," said Mother; "it's quite true that we're poor, but we
have enough to live on. You mustn't go telling everyone about our
affairs--it's not right. And you must never, never, never ask
strangers to give you things. Now always remember that--won't you?"

They all hugged her and rubbed their damp cheeks against hers and
promised that they would.

"And I'll write a letter to your old gentleman, and I shall tell him
that I didn't approve--oh, of course I shall thank him, too, for his
kindness. It's YOU I don't approve of, my darlings, not the old
gentleman. He was as kind as ever he could be. And you can give
the letter to the Station Master to give him--and we won't say any
more about it."

Afterwards, when the children were alone, Bobbie said:--

"Isn't Mother splendid? You catch any other grown-up saying they
were sorry they had been angry."

"Yes," said Peter, "she IS splendid; but it's rather awful when
she's angry."