blackbeetles with terrible distinctness, when the poor things came
out in the evening, as usual, to try to make friends with the
children. But the children never would.

The Sunday ended in gloom, which even junket for supper in the blue
Dresden bowl could hardly lighten at all. Next day the Lamb's
cough was worse. It certainly seemed very whoopy, and the doctor
came in his brougham carriage.

Every one tried to bear up under the weight of the sorrow which it
was to know that the wishing carpet was locked up and the Phoenix
mislaid. A good deal of time was spent in looking for the Phoenix.

'It's a bird of its word,' said Anthea. 'I'm sure it's not
deserted us. But you know it had a most awfully long fly from
wherever it was to near Rochester and back, and I expect the poor
thing's feeling tired out and wants rest. I am sure we may trust
it.'

The others tried to feel sure of this, too, but it was hard.

No one could be expected to feel very kindly towards the cook,
since it was entirely through her making such a fuss about a little
foreign mud that the carpet had been taken away.

'She might have told us,' said Jane, 'and Panther and I would have
cleaned it with tea-leaves.'

'She's a cantankerous cat,' said Robert.