"My little girl!" sobbed the little old lady, stroking, with eager
hands, Esther's wet hair and wetter cheeks.

And Bunty, who had followed close behind, looked from the tall figure
of his stepmother to the very small one of her mother and laughed.

Esther darted back to the buggy, took the General from Pip, and,
springing up the steps again, placed him in her mother's arms.

"Isn't he a fat 'un!" Bunty said, sharing in her pride; "just you
look at his legs."

The old lady sat down for one minute in the wettest chair she could
find, and cuddled him close up to her.

But he doubled his little cold fists, fought himself free, and
yelled for Esther.

Mr. Hassal had emptied the buggies by now, and came up the steps
himself.

"Aren't you going to give them some breakfast, little mother?" he
said, and the old lady nearly dropped her grandson in her distress.

"Dear, dear!" she said. "Well, well! Just to think of it! But it
makes one forget."

In ten minutes they were all in dry things, sitting in the warm
dining-room and making prodigious breakfasts.