a van by men in green-baize aprons, the two girls and Mother and
Aunt Emma slept in the two spare rooms where the furniture was all
pretty. All their beds had gone. A bed was made up for Peter on
the drawing-room sofa.

"I say, this is larks," he said, wriggling joyously, as Mother
tucked him up. "I do like moving! I wish we moved once a month."

Mother laughed.

"I don't!" she said. "Good night, Peterkin."

As she turned away Roberta saw her face. She never forgot it.

"Oh, Mother," she whispered all to herself as she got into bed, "how
brave you are! How I love you! Fancy being brave enough to laugh
when you're feeling like THAT!"

Next day boxes were filled, and boxes and more boxes; and then late
in the afternoon a cab came to take them to the station.

Aunt Emma saw them off. They felt that THEY were seeing HER off,
and they were glad of it.

"But, oh, those poor little foreign children that she's going to
governess!" whispered Phyllis. "I wouldn't be them for anything!"

At first they enjoyed looking out of the window, but when it grew
dusk they grew sleepier and sleepier, and no one knew how long they
had been in the train when they were roused by Mother's shaking them