honour. Hamlet, his eyes and ears also upon the door, expecting
perhaps a rat, perhaps Aunt Amy, sat in front of the group, its
bodyguard.

"She's in the hall," said Helen, "and now Mother's saying: 'Do take
off your things. You must be wet,' and now she's saying: 'You'll
like to see the children, I expect,' and now--"

There they were, standing in the doorway, Mrs. Cole and Miss Jones.
There followed a dismal pause. The children had not expected anyone
so old and so ugly as Miss Jones. Hamlet did not bark--nothing
occurred.

At last Mrs. Cole said: "Now, children, come and say, 'How do you
do?' to Miss Jones. This is Helen, our eldest--this Mary--and this
Jeremy."

Miss Jones did a dreadful thing. In her eagerness to be pleasant and
friendly she kissed the girls, and then, before anyone could stop
her, kissed Jeremy. He took it like a man, never turning his head
nor wiping his mouth with his hand afterwards, but she might have
seen in his eyes, had she looked, what he felt about it.

She said: "I hope we shall be happy together, dears."

The children said nothing, and presently they all sat down to tea.