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and said, —

      "I had meant to present these two young gentlemen to your mother myself, but I think the only thing I can do is to get away as fast as I can. Perhaps they will come to their senses then;" and so saying, he made a sudden dive into the carriage, which had now been relieved of the luggage with which it had been piled.

      The boys were after him like a shot, and Esther was in terror lest they should be run over before the carriage got safely away; but at last this was achieved, after much shouting and bawling and scrimmaging; and though both boys set off in pursuit like a pair of street Arabs, the horses soon left them behind, and they returned panting and breathless to the little gate.

      "He's a jolly old buffer," said one of the boys; "I'd like to have gone with him."

      "I shall go and see him every day," remarked the other. "He said he lived close by."

      Then they reached the gate once more, and held out their rather smutty paws to Esther.

      "How d'ye do? Hadn't time to speak to you before. Are we all going to live in this funny little box of a place?"

      "It's our house," answered Esther shyly, much more afraid of the boys than they of her; indeed they did not seem to know what fear or shyness was. "I think you'll find there's plenty of room inside; and we have a very nice little garden."

      "Call this a garden!" said the boy, with a look round; "I call it a pocket-handkerchief!"

      Then they both laughed, and Esther laughed too, for there was something infectious about their high spirits, though they did talk in a fashion she had never heard before.

      "Come and see mama first," she said, "and then I'll take you up-stairs to wash your hands, and then we'll have tea together. I daresay you are hungry."

      They followed her into the little drawing-room where Mrs. St. Aiden lay. On her face there was a look of some perplexity, for she had heard a great deal of shouting and laughing, and was in some anxiety to know what it could mean.

      Now she was looking upon a couple of little boys, in plain dark-blue knickerbocker suits, both having round faces and curly hair, though that of the elder boy was dark brown, and his eyes were a bright hazel; whilst the younger was blue-eyed, his hair the color of burnished gold, and his face, when at rest, wore a sort of cherubic expression that went to his aunt's heart.

      "My dears, I am very glad to see you," she said. "Come and kiss me, and tell me which is Philip and which is Percy."

      The boys looked at each other, and a gleam came into their eyes.

      "We'll kiss you to-day," said the elder one, advancing, and speaking with the air of one making a great concession, "because we've just come, and Crump said we were to. But we're not going to kiss every day. That's like women and girls. Boys don't kiss like that. So you won't expect it, you know."

      Then the pair advanced simultaneously; each gave and received a kiss, and stood back again, the younger one wiping the salute from his face with the cuff of his jacket.

      "I hope you're not a kissing girl," he said in a low voice to Esther, who stood behind lost in amaze, "because I shan't let you kiss me."

      "And which is Philip and which is Percy?" asked Mrs. St. Aiden again, more disposed to be afraid of the boys than they of her.

      "Oh, we don't call ourselves by these affected names – nobody does," said the elder of the pair in lofty tones. "I suppose I'm Philip, but really I hardly know. They all call me Pickle, and him Puck. You'll have to do the same."

      "I am not very fond of nicknames," said Mrs. St. Aiden, not quite pleased. "I shall call you by your right names whilst you are in my house."

      "Call away; we shan't answer!" cried Pickle, with one of the ringing laughs which took off just a little from the bluntness of his speech. – "Come along, Puck, we've done it all now. – Oh, one thing more. Crump sent his love to you, and was sorry he couldn't come down and see you. I think that's all."

      "But I don't understand. Who is Crump?" asked Mrs. St. Aiden rather breathlessly.

      "Oh, only father," answered Puck, as he sidled out at the door; and then making a dash across into the dining-room, he set up a great whoop of delight, for there was a splendid tea set out – chicken, and ham, and tarts, and Devonshire cream, and several kinds of cake and jam; and the boys had scrambled on to their chairs in a twinkling, and were calling out to somebody to make haste and give them their tea, as they were just starving.

      "But you haven't washed your hands," said Esther aghast.

      They contemplated their grubby little paws with great equanimity.

      "Mine aren't dirty to speak of," said Pickle.

      "Mine are quite clean," asserted Puck, with an angelic smile.

      "We're not like cats and girls, who are always washing," added Pickle. "Do give us our tea. We're so hungry and thirsty!"

      "But you haven't said grace!" said Esther, whereupon the boys began to laugh.

      "Grown-up people don't say grace now. It's not the fashion. But fire away if you want to. Crump used to make us try, but we always burst out laughing in the middle, so we gave it up."

      Esther said grace gravely, and the boys did not laugh that time. Then she helped them to what they wanted, regarding them rather in the light of wild animals, upon whose next acts there was no depending. And yet it was rather interesting, and she wanted to know more about them and their odd ways.

      "Why do you call your father Crump?" she asked tentatively.

      "Well, we have to call him something," said Pickle, with his mouth full, and they both began to giggle.

      "It's my name," said Puck, after a short pause. "I thought of it in bed one night. We laughed for nearly an hour afterwards. We've called him it ever since."

      "Does he like it?"

      They stared at her round-eyed and amazed.

      "I don't know. We never asked him. We've always got some name for him. You've got to call people something."

      "Why don't you call him father?" asked Esther mildly; but at that question they both went off into fits of laughter, and she felt herself getting red without knowing why.

      "What's your name?" asked Puck, when he had recovered himself; but his brother cut in by saying, —

      "You know it's Esther – Old Bobby told us that."

      "So he did; and he said you were frightened at him, and that we should have to teach you better. Fancy being frightened at an old buffer like that – a jolly one too!"

      Esther sat in silent amaze. She knew they were talking of Mr. Trelawny, but she was dumfounded at their audacity, and it was rather disconcerting to hear that he was aware of her feelings towards him. She hoped that he took her silence for a grown-up reserve.

      "You mustn't call Mr. Trelawny names," she said. "He's quite an old gentleman, and you must treat him with respect."

      "I said he was a nice old buffer," said Puck, as though after that nothing more could be expected of him.

      "But you call him 'Old Bobby,' and I can't think how you dare. It isn't at all respectful. I wonder he lets you."

      "Well, he shouldn't play the bobby on us then," answered Pickle. "He said he'd come to carry us off, and he marched us out of the station like a pair of prisoners. We had to call him bobby after that. I want to go and see his house. Can we go up after tea?"

      Esther shook her head. She was not prepared for such a move.

      "You'd better wait for another time for that," she said. "I'll show you our house when you're done with tea."

      "All right; but there isn't much to show, I should think. It's the funniest little box I was ever in. But perhaps we'll get some fun out of it, all the same. Crump said the sea was quite near. That'll be jolly fun. I like the sea awfully."

      "I don't go there very often," said Esther. "Mama does not care about it. The coast is rather dangerous, you know."

      But both boys began to laugh, as they seemed to do at whatever

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