after which she was quite contented. Only, how was the day to be spent?

There was a little excitement about the unpacking of her things and setting out the little presents she had got for Granny. Nurse Nancy too had to be surprised and delighted at the gift of a nice, large, white lawn kerchief, hemmed by Terencia, such as Nancy was accustomed to wear folded round her neck and across her breast, and which was so becoming to her dear old black eyes and brown face. And after that gratifying presentation how could Nurse Nancy be exceedingly strict and distrustful on that particularly wet and dark December morning? On the contrary, she was in her most amiable and indulgent humour.

"I've got such a fine lot of toys for good children," she said, and began opening the cupboards and drawers. "Here's dolls and soldiers, and bricks and all sorts of what-not. And you'll amuse yourselves with them like good childher, for I'm goin' to be an hour or so in there, attendin' on your gran'ma. Or will I send up Bridget to be lookin' afther ye?"

"Oh no, please!" said Terry, "we can look after ourselves till you come back. Now, can't we, Turly?"

Turly, who was riding from Kimberley to Pretoria on the newly-painted rocking-horse, waved an assent, and Nurse Nancy left the nursery without misgiving.

She was not long gone before Terry began to get impatient with the new dolls. She had inspected them inside and outside, found what they were made of, satisfied herself as to whether or not their clothes came off and on, tossed up their curls and smoothed them down again, shaken them up and told them to stand up straight, which they promptly refused to do. At last it seemed that there was nothing more to be done with them.

"Oh, you are stupid!" she exclaimed; "staring with your glassy eyes, always your same pink cheeks, and never saying a word."

"Dolls don't talk," said Turly, who was now solemnly engaged in making a play on the floor with a box of soldiers.

"Of course they don't," said Terry. "That's just what it is. I hate playing with things that have got no life in them!"

"Soldiers aren't alive," said Turly, as one tumbled over and he set it up again, "but I'm having a splendid battle."

"Oh, Turly, how can you? Oh, I do so want things to be alive! Now, do just come over to the window and look down into the yard at Vulcan sitting in his kennel, poor dear, when he is longing to be running all over the world! Oh, I declare, he sees us, and is wagging his tail! Just look at his big eyes and his nose pointed up at us. Now, that is the kind of creature I want to play with. But there he is shut up in his cage, and we—"

"Can't we go down to him?" said Turly.

"It's too wet. Nurse would be in such a fuss if we played in the yard. But I don't see why we mightn't bring him up. He's the watch-dog, and watch-dogs are only wanted there at night. It couldn't be any harm to have him up here only for half an hour or so. I'll wipe his paws on the mat so that he sha'n't make any mess. And he doesn't bark much unless he hears a noise at night, so I am sure he wouldn't disturb Grandma."

Turly had swept away his soldiers, and stood up ready for the adventure.

"I won that battle," he said; "so now, come on!"

"Take my hand, Turly. They sha'n't say I led you into mischief this time," said Terry. "I'll take care you don't fall down the back stairs."

"I can take care of that myself," said Turly.

"No, you can't. You are not as old as I am, so hold on to me well in case the stairs are slippy."

They went out on the landing very quietly, "not to make any fuss", as Terry said, and made for the gate at the top of the stairs. Terry knew the trick of the hasp and it was quickly opened, and away they went, down flight after flight, into the yard.

"Oh, I say, it is wet!" said Turly, as they paddled across the yard with the rain pouring on them.

"Hush!" said Terry, "or someone will hear you and come running to prevent us. And it can't be any harm. It will be such a delightful treat for poor old Vulcan!"

Turly said no more, and the two children stood with the rain drenching their hair and clothes, and almost blinding them, as in silence they unfastened the chain that held Vulcan to his kennel. The dog was scarcely able to believe his senses when he felt the little soft hands pawing at his neck, and as soon as he was free he jumped on them wildly, embracing them with his hairy arms and covering them with mud.

"Quiet, now, Vulcan!" said Terry softly. "You must be very good, or we sha'n't be able to take you up to the nursery. Come along, old fellow, and pick your steps over the sloppy places."

They got safely across the yard, gained the door, and went up the stone stair, leaving streams of muddy water on all the steps behind them.

Arrived at the top, Terry looked round for a mat, but there was nothing just at that spot except the carpet, so she took out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped Vulcan's feet with it.

"It makes no difference to his wetness," she said, "but that does not matter. His feet will get dry by degrees."

"We have made a mess on the stairs," said Turly, looking back.

"Yes, I don't know how we ever got so wet," said Terry; "but stone stairs dry up so quickly. Come along now, Vulcan, you are not to bark a word or you may frighten your grandma!"

Vulcan was quite in the spirit of the adventure, and trotted quietly along with the children into the nursery.

Then the door was shut and the merriment began.

First of all the children took each one of his fore-paws and danced with him many times round the room. Vulcan enjoyed the dance for a time, and bore it patiently for another time, but at last he conveyed by a short significant bark that he had had enough of it.

"Is he getting cross?" said Turly.

"No, but I'll tell you what it is," said Terry. "He gets tired sooner than we do because we are accustomed to have only two legs to go with and he is used to four. And we have taken away two of his legs. We have been making arms of them."

"Yes indeed," said Turly, dropping the dog's paw.

"There now, Vulcan," said Terry, "you have got back all your legs, so don't be grumbling. And don't let me hear you give that bark again or there will be a fuss."

"What are you going to do with him now?" said Turly. "If he can't dance about or bark what's the good of him?"

"I'll show you," said Terry. "Now, Vulcan, darling, you are going to sit down in this nice large basket-chair, Nursey's chair, you know, and I'm going to change you into such a dear old woman. You can't have a nursery, you know, without a nurse, and you're going to be our nurse. Mind him, Turly, until I get a few things. Here is Nurse Nancy's gown, not her best stuff, nor her clean cotton, but the cotton she had on yesterday morning. And here's her cap, the one she has put away for the wash, and yet it's nice enough. Now sit up, Vulcan, and let me dress you!"

"You are taking away two of his legs again, and he won't like it," said Turly.

"Oh! he won't care now, because he is sitting. He doesn't want four legs to sit with. Dancing was different. Now, Vulcan, hold yourself straight, old fellow! There, doesn't the dress fit him nicely, at least when I turn up the sleeves over his paws and tie an apron round his body to make him a waist? Dear old Nursey hasn't got much of a waist neither; now,