implacable and merciless, she had a pretty side as well. Their
neighbour at the Manor House, Colonel William Stumper, C.B.,
experienced this gentler quality in the trio. He was Mother's cousin,
too.

They were inclined to like this Colonel Stumper, C.B. For one thing he
limped, and that meant, they decided, that he had a wooden leg. They
never called it such, of course, but indicated obliquely that the
injured limb was made of oak or walnut, by referring to the other as
"his living leg," "his good leg," and so forth. For another thing, he
did not smile at them; and for a third, he did not ask foolish
questions in an up-and-down voice (assumed for the moment), as though
they were invalids, idiots, or tailless puppies who could not answer.
He frowned at them. He said furiously, "How are you, creatures?" And--
he gave usually at least a shilling to each.

"That makes three shillings altogether," as Tim cleverly explained.

"But not three shillings for each of us," Maria qualified the praise.
"_I_ only got one." She took it out of her mouth and showed it by way
of proof.

"You'll swallow it," warned Judy, "and then you won't have none at
all."

If received early in the week, they reported their good fortune to the
Authorities; but if Sunday was too near, they waited. Daddy had a
queer idea of teasing sometimes. "Just in time for to-morrow's
collection," he would be apt to say; and though he did not really mean
it perhaps, there was a hint of threat in the suggestion that quenched