[Illustration: GRIZZEL THREW IN A SMALL HANDFUL OF TEA]

Mollie turned to look at Hugh. He had grown a little taller, she
thought, but was as clear-eyed and meditative as ever. And behind
Hugh was the flower-garden, full of roses--thousands and thousands
of roses, mostly pale pink. They were loose-petalled and exquisitely
sweet. The children paused for a moment before going into the house,
and all four sniffed up the delicate fragrance appreciatively.

"That's my idea," said Hugh, with an extra loud sniff. "Scent! Let's
make attar of roses. It costs a guinea a drop to buy, and we could
make bottles full. I've been examining the rose-bushes--they are
simply packed full of buds behind the flowers. I have been reading
about it. It's quite easy to do; you merely have to extract the
essential oil from the petals and there you are. I'll show you after
tea."

They passed through the porch into the house. There was no hall;
they walked straight into the sitting-room, where a table was spread
with tea, and Miss Hilton, a rather faded-looking lady of middling
age, was already seated behind the tea-pot.

"Go and wash your hands, children," she said, in a voice that
matched her looks, "and smooth your hair. I am _surprised_ at you
coming into the room like this. I don't know what your visitor will
think, I am sure. Children have _very_ different manners in
England."

Mollie glanced round at the other three. She herself stood behind
Miss Hilton and was therefore not within that lady's line of vision.