'What a dear darling duck of a baby! Oh, I SHOULD so like to adopt
it! Do you think its mother would mind?'

'She'd mind very much indeed,' said Anthea shortly.

'Oh, but I should bring it up in luxury, you know. I am Lady
Chittenden. You must have seen my photograph in the illustrated
papers. They call me a beauty, you know, but of course that's all
nonsense. Anyway -'

She opened the carriage door and jumped out. She had the
wonderfullest red high-heeled shoes with silver buckles. 'Let me
hold him a minute,' she said. And she took the Lamb and held him
very awkwardly, as if she was not used to babies.

Then suddenly she jumped into the carriage with the Lamb in her
arms and slammed the door and said, 'Drive on!'

The Lamb roared, the little white dog barked, and the coachman
hesitated.

'Drive on, I tell you!' cried the lady; and the coachman did, for,
as he said afterwards, it was as much as his place was worth not
to.

The four children looked at each other, and then with one accord
they rushed after the carriage and held on behind. Down the dusty
road went the smart carriage, and after it, at double-quick time,
ran the twinkling legs of the Lamb's brothers and sisters.