blue cotton coat which they thought would fit Baby Buckle. Nelly used to kiss and pat that little coat, and loved it quite as much as any doll she had ever had. In return Nelly taught An Ching to knit, with some chopsticks, which they pointed at the ends, for needles.

The children were rarely allowed to go outside the Kus' compound, and never alone, but they could play out of doors as much as they wished. The larger court had the houses or set of rooms in it, and there was a smaller court which was entered through a queer gateway just like a large round hole in the wall. This court was at the side of Ku Nai-nai's rooms, and had no windows looking into it. An Ching, Nelly, and Little Yi used often to go and sit there with their work, and the children sometimes played at jumping through the hole. They saw no one but the Kus and their servant. Even when the barber came to shave Hung Li's head they were shut up out of sight, and their hair was kept short with Ku Nai-nai's scissors.

Little Yi was becoming almost reconciled to life in Yung Ching, for although she was fond of her parents, she did not love them as Nelly did hers. She missed the large compound of the British Legation, and would have been very pleased to know at any moment that she was to be sent home. But she ate, slept, and was just as contented all day long as she had always been.

But Nelly, poor child, was no longer the merry little hopping and skipping creature she had been in Peking. She never had a fit of the giggles now, and she was thin and pale; still, she was not absolutely miserable, for she felt sure she was going to leave Yung Ching soon, especially after she overheard a conversation which took place in Ku Nai-nai's room one night after she and Little Yi were in bed.

Hung Li began by telling Ku Nai-nai he had been cheated out of some money by a man with whom he had done business that day; and he added:

'It is time these children went home now. I must have more money. I shall go and see the barber when next I go to Peking, and arrange with him to give them up to their parents.'

'How do you mean to do it?' asked Ku Nai-nai. 'If the barber goes to the Ying-Kua-Fu (British Legation) he will certainly be arrested, and then he is sure to tell about us.'

'Do you think I shall let him go to the Legation?' replied Hung Li, scornfully. 'No,' he went on; 'I shall write a letter to the foreign girl's father, asking him to send some one alone with the money to the Chien Mên (centre gate). I will be there to meet the messenger, and the barber will be outside with the children in some retired place. I shall take the messenger to see the children, and then he will hand over the money. The barber can slip away afterwards.'

'Yes,' grunted Ku Nai-nai, 'and what's to prevent the child telling her father where to find us in Yung Ching?'

'And what if she does?' replied Hung Li. 'No one has seen the children. The mandarin of this district is my friend, and I can make it all right. You don't suppose I want to adopt the children? You (turning to An Ching) would like to keep that pale-faced little foreign imp, I suppose, but you shan't do it.'

An Ching did not reply, but next day, when Nelly told her that she had been awake and heard the talking in the next room, she said:

'No one cares for me here, and I am of no use in the world. If I can get away I shall try to come to you in Peking.'

'Oh, do,' said Nelly, delighted. 'How can it be managed?'

'I don't know. We must think it all out. I am not as stupid as Hung Li thinks,' replied An Ching. 'If I were sure that your father and mother would take me as a servant, I'd manage it.'

'I am certain they will when they hear how kind you have been to me,' said Nelly. 'You shall come as my maid to England; but you can't do much, can you? You don't know about our ways; but never mind, I'll teach you. Wouldn't you like to learn some English to begin with?'

And Nelly at once began to give English lessons to An Ching, and Little Yi sometimes condescended to listen. They had no books, and it was only by repeating words and short sentences over and over again that anything could be done. Nelly was much bothered when she was asked the names of things that do not exist in English, such as the hair ornaments worn by the Chinese women. She was obliged to invent names for them. For instance, the embroidered band a Chinese girl wears as soon as she is old enough not to have her hair shaved in front Nelly called a 'hair-belt,' and the curved, flat ornament sticking out behind An Ching's head she christened 'head-protector.' Nelly was not quite sure that it was good English to invent names, but she said to herself, 'The Chinese call a tea-cosy "a tea-pot's hat" and a sewing machine "an iron tailor."' Greatly to Nelly's surprise and sorrow, there were times when she could not remember the names of things in English. She was, in fact, beginning to forget her own language. One day, when it had taken her a very long time to remember that 'wa-tzu' meant stockings, she was in great trouble, until Little Yi reminded her that she had always called them 'wa-tzu' in Peking. 'I've often heard you say that and lots of other things in Chinese when you were speaking English,' added Little Yi, decidedly.

Nelly next set to work to teach An Ching to sing hymns, and succeeded pretty well, as far as the tune was concerned, with the help of Little Yi, who, having often listened with all her ears to the singing in the Legation chapel on Sunday mornings, knew some of the airs quite well. An Ching and the two children used to go through the round gateway into the inner court, and while Nelly sang the words very distinctly, An Ching and Little Yi hummed the tune. 'Art thou weary' was their favourite hymn.

CHAPTER VII

THE CHESHIRE CAT

It began to be very hot about the middle of May. The Ku family had put their wadded clothes away and taken to cottons and thin silks. Nelly and Little Yi were also supplied with some very plain unwadded cotton coats and trousers at the same time. But in spite of this the little foreigner, as the Chinese called her, began to feel the heat and confinement of the small compound. She thought of her friends, who would all be preparing to go to the hills with their parents, and the days seemed very long. It was hard just to wait, with nothing at all happening. One day was just like another. There were no Sundays, no letters, no books, no lessons. The time was not even divided into weeks. Nelly quite lost count of the date. She only knew it Chinese fashion, by the number of new moons there had been since the Chinese New Year.

It appeared as though Hung Li never would go to Peking as he had said, but he did start one day at the end of May, and An Ching told the children that he intended to see the barber and arrange for them to be handed over to their parents. He had business to do on the way to Peking as well as in that city, so that he would be away some time, An Ching said.

Nelly was very glad to see Hung Li start, and she leaped through the round hole in the wall again and again, really and truly jumping for joy. She made An Ching and Little Yi sing their very best and loudest, until the small court resounded with the strains of 'Art thou weary,'