"Bless me," she said, "I thought he was still asleep. Never mind, Master Racey," she said, turning to him, "you couldn't understand."

Racey muttered to himself at this. He hated being told he couldn't understand. But just then Tom woke. He said his headache was better, but still I didn't think he looked quite well.

"Is the new nurse coming to-day?" he inquired of Sarah. Sarah shook her head.

"I've heard nothing about her," she said. "I don't think Mrs. Partridge can have settled anything, and perhaps that's why she came home so cross."

"I don't care if her comes or if her doesn't," said Racey, who had grown very brave. "_I_'m going to Miss Goldy-hair's."

Sarah wasn't in the room just then, and I was rather glad of it. Somehow I wouldn't have liked her to hear our name for the young lady, and I told him he wasn't to say it to anybody but Tom and me--perhaps the young lady wouldn't like it.

Racey said nothing, but I noticed he didn't say it again before Sarah.

He was a queer little boy in some ways. When you thought he wasn't noticing a thing he'd know it quite well, and then he'd say it out again some time when you didn't want him to, very likely.

All breakfast time I kept wondering what was going to happen. Would the young lady come for us herself? Would she send to ask Uncle Geoff to let us go, or had she asked him already? Tom was very quiet--he didn't seem very hungry, though he said his headache was better, but his eyes looked heavy.

"I wish she'd come," he said two or three times. "I'd like to sit on her knee and for her to tell us stories. I'd like to sit on somebody's knee.

You're not big enough, are you, Audrey?"

I was afraid not, but I did my best. I sat down on a buffet leaning against a chair, and made the best place I could for Tom.

"Is your head bad again, Tom?" I asked.

"No, only I like sitting this way--quite still," he replied.

I couldn't help being afraid that he was ill. The thought made me very unhappy, for it was my fault that he had gone out in the wet and the cold the night before, and I began to see that I had not been taking care of my little brothers in the right way, and that mother would be very sorry if she knew all about it. It made me feel gentler and different somehow, and I thought to myself that I would ask Miss Goldy-hair to tell me how I could know better what was the right way. I was just thinking that, and I think one or two tears had dropped on Tom's dark hair, when the door opened and Uncle Geoff came in.

At first I couldn't help being frightened. Miss Goldy-hair was sure to have told him, and however nicely she had told him I didn't see how it was _possible_ he shouldn't be angry. I looked up at him, and the tears began to come quicker, and I had to hold my breath to keep myself from bursting out into regular crying. To my surprise Uncle Geoff knelt down on the floor beside me and stroked my head very kindly.

"My poor little Audrey," he said, "and you have been unhappy since you came here? I am so sorry that I have not been able to make you happy, but it isn't too late yet to try again, is it?"

I was so surprised that I couldn't speak. I just sat still, holding Tom close in my arms, and the tears dropping faster and faster.

"I thought you thought I was so naughty, Uncle Geoff," I said at last.

"Mrs. Partridge said so, and she said we were such a trouble to you. I thought you'd be glad if we went away; and I thought we _were_ getting naughty. We never quarrelled hardly at home."

"But at home you had your mother and your father, who understood how to keep you happy, so that you weren't tempted to quarrel," said Uncle Geoff. "And I'm only a stupid old uncle, who needs teaching himself, you see. Let's make a compact, Audrey. If you are unhappy, come and tell me yourself, and we'll see if we can't put it right. Never mind what Mrs.

Partridge says. She means to be kind, but she's old, and it's a very long time since she had to do with children. Now will you promise me this, Audrey?"

"Yes, Uncle Geoff," I said, in a very low voice.

"And you will never think of running away from your cross old uncle again, will you?" he said.

"No, Uncle Geoff," I replied. "I didn't mean to be naughty. I _really_ didn't. But we did think n.o.body cared for us here, and mother told me to make the boys happy."

"And we will make them happy. We'll begin to-day and see if we can't manage to understand each other better," said Uncle Geoff, cheerfully.

"_To-day_ you will be happy any way, I think, for I have got an invitation for you. You know whom it's from?"

"Yes," said Tom and I together. Tom, who had been lying quite still in my arms all this time listening half sleepily, started up in excitement.

"Yes," we said, "it's from Miss Goldy-hair."

"Miss--how much?" said Uncle Geoff.

We couldn't help laughing.

"We called her that because we didn't know her name, and her hair was so pretty," we said.

Uncle Geoff laughed too.

"It's rather a nice name, I think," he said. "What funny creatures children are! I must set to work to understand them better. Well, yes, you're quite right. Miss Goldy-hair wants you all three to go and spend all the day with her. But what's the matter with Tom?" he went on. "Have you a headache, my boy?" for Tom had let his head drop down again on my shoulder.

"Yes," said Tom, "and a sore t'roat, Uncle Geoff." Uncle Geoff looked rather grave at this.

"Let's have a look at you, my boy," he said.

He lifted Tom up in his arms and carried him to the window and examined his throat.

"He must have caught cold," he said. "It isn't very bad so far, but I'm afraid--I'm very much afraid he mustn't go out to-day."

He--Uncle Geoff--looked at me as if he were wondering how I would take this.

"Oh, poor Tom!" I cried. "Oh, Uncle Geoff, it was all my fault for letting him go out last night. Oh, Uncle Geoff, do forgive me. I'll be so good, and I'll try to amuse poor Tom and make him happy all day."

"Then you don't want to go without him?" said Uncle Geoff.

"Oh, _of course_ not," I replied. "Of course I'd not leave Tom when he's ill, and when it was my fault too. Oh, Uncle Geoff, you don't think he's going to be very ill, do you?"

Tom looked up very pathetically.

"Don't cry, poor Audrey," he said. "My t'roat isn't so vrezy bad."

Uncle Geoff was very kind.

"No," he said. "I don't think it'll be very bad. But you must take great care of him, Audrey. And I don't know how to do. I don't like your being left so much alone, and yet there's no one in the house fit to take care of you."

"Hasn't Mrs. Partridge got a new nurse for us?" I asked.

"No," said Uncle Geoff, smiling a little. "She hasn't found one yet."

There came a sort of squeal from the corner of the room. We all started.

It was Racey. He was playing as usual with his beloved horses, not seeming to pay any attention to what we were saying. But he was attending all the time, and the squeal was a squeal of delight at hearing that the new nurse was not coming.

"What is the matter, Racey?" I said.

"Her's not tumming," he shouted. "Her won't whip us."

"Who said anything about being whipped?" said Uncle Geoff.

We hesitated.