children to her care; no one so glad as the dear old granny herself, unless it might be Nurse Nancy.

To tell how the grandmother and nurse, whose hands had once been so full and were now so long empty, went into the deserted nurseries and furbished them up till everything looked as good as new would require a chapter to itself. A handy man was sent for to come two miles and paint up the old rocking-horse which had been standing for years with its nose in a corner of a closet and its sides all blistered with damp; and nine-pins, tops, and marbles were hunted out of drawers and cupboards.

"Mercy me! Look here, madam! If this isn't the dog that Misther Jack broke the ear off knockin' its head against the wall one day and him in a passion!" said Nurse Nancy.

She was afraid to bring forth the dolls, with their associations, but the mother herself went to look for them.

"We are getting a little girl, Nancy," she said, "and we can't have nothing but boys' toys for her to play with."

Nancy nodded her head, but Madam went boldly to the drawer, looked at the dolls with their faded cheeks and glassy eyes, shook out their gay frocks, and laid them back in their place. Nancy said nothing, but when Madam remarked that evening:

"I am writing for one or two new ones. They will be fresher. And you might lock up the old ones and leave them where they are," Nancy knew exactly what her mistress was thinking of.

But that was more than a year ago. The story of how the girl and boy came, and how the two old women, who had many years ago been so clever in the management of children, failed utterly with the "young African savages", as a lady neighbour twenty miles distant described Terry and Turly, need not be told. There had been utter dismay in Trimleston House: and after much struggling with difficulties, Madam had been obliged to yield to the decision of their father and to send them to school.

There had been a summer vacation, the recollection of which made Madam and Nurse Nancy tremble; hence the serious expectation with which they are awaiting at the present moment the arrival of the children for the Christmas holidays.

"ONLY MISS TERRY COME BACK TO US!"

"Yes," continued Madam; "from what the good schoolmistress has written to me, and from the child's own letters, I am hoping to find my granddaughter grown into quite a gentle little lady."

A shout from somewhere below the windows interrupted her, a shout so unusual and peculiar that Madam and Nurse Nancy were silenced, and sat listening and looking at one another. More cries followed, astonished, admiring, and then a sound from a little distance of wild, shrill cheering began to come nearer.

Madam and Nurse Nancy stood up and hurried to a window overlooking the drive in front of the house, and then to another through which they could see the avenue approaching it.

There was a hint of dusk in the air, yet enough light to show a strange sight, a horse and car flying along between the trees towards the house, and followed by a little rabble of boys and girls, all clapping their hands and cheering in the wildest delight. The cause of their excitement was easily seen. In the driver's seat sat a small figure with a yellow curly head, her hat blown off and hanging on her shoulders by the strings round her neck, her hands grasping the reins, and her feet planted determinedly against the dash-board.

"Heavens!" cried Madam. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Don't be puttin' yourself out, madam," said Nancy. "It's only Miss Terry come back to us! Sure the ould warrior hasn't done with her yet awhile. Good saints! to see the grip that the little bits of hands of her has on the reins!"

"It will kill me, Nancy, it will kill me. Can you see if there is anyone on the car besides herself? What has become of Lally?"

"Oh, goodness knows!" said Nancy. "He's not to be seen; but Turly's with her safe enough, houldin' on for his bare life, one clutch on the rail of the seat, and the other on the well o' the car. Goodness knows how much longer he could stick to it. But she's bringin' all up to the hall-door splendid, an' I declare you would think the ould horse was laughin' at the joke!"

"I hope she hasn't killed Lally and lost the luggage about the roads," groaned Madam. "And where has she picked up all that crowd of wild creatures that are screaming round the car?"

"Sure, out of ivery place as they came along," said Nancy. "Now, I'll just go down, madam, and bring the childher up to you, an' you're to sit there and not to stir, for you're shakin' all over like the ould weather-cock on a day whin the wind does be blowin' from ivery side."

Meanwhile Terry had brought the car in triumph to the door and jumped down from her perch, her yellow curls on end in the wind, her hat flapping on her back, and the fur capes of her little coat standing up straight round her ears. She threw away the reins and ran to the horse's head, putting her cheek against his nose, petting him with her hands, and pouring out flatteries enough to turn any animal's brain.

"You darling, you angel, how lovely you did run for me! Has anybody got a lump of sugar? No, well it is a shame. But I'll come to you to-morrow with lots of it."

"Miss Terry! Miss Terry! Welcome home, Miss Terry!" shrieked a chorus of shrill young voices. "Sure we run a lot of the ways with ye, Miss Terry, darlin'!"

"So you did!" cried Terry. "Wasn't it splendid?" Her little purse was in her hand in a moment. "Here is all I've got!" and she flung its contents of shillings, sixpences, and coppers among the dancing youngsters, who scrambled and wrangled for them, and finally disappeared in a headlong scamper down the avenue.

By this time Turly had got down from the car, disdaining the assistance of the women who came to moan over him.

"It's well you didn't kill your brother, Miss Terry," said Nurse Nancy severely, "and your gran'ma is anxious to know whereabouts on the road you murdhered Misther Lally."

Terry stared at her with her big blue eyes, and then burst out laughing.

"Oh, you dear, funny old Nurse!" she said; "I'm sure Granny never thought of such a thing. Why, here is Lally, dear old slowcoach! Got off to pick me some moss, and got left behind. And to think that Turly didn't know how to hold on to a car! But please take me to Gran'ma, Nursey dear, I do so want to see her!"

Granny was sitting very erect in her chair, with a face that was intended to be severe, but was only sad and frightened. The door opened and Nurse Nancy appeared with the children. Terry flew forward, but Granny waved her off, and began to address her seriously.

"Terencia Mary" (Granny's voice quavered), "what is the meaning of your behaving in this extraordinary manner?"

"Oh, Granny dear, I didn't behave, I assure you I didn't. We had such a glorious drive home, and I am so glad to see you. But oh, Granny dear, I'm afraid you are sick; you look so pale."

"No wonder if I am sick and pale at your conduct. Do they allow you to sit in the driver's seat and drive the cars at Miss Goodchild's?"

"They couldn't, Granny dear," said Terry, shaking back her bright curls, and fixing her clear eyes on the old lady's face. "They have no cars, only an omnibus to take us to the station. And I couldn't drive an