their lids; and her flat chin trembled slightly as she talked.

"This is Rodney," she said, as if she were repeating a lesson after
Mamma.

Rodney leaned up against Mamma and looked proud and handsome. She had
her arm round him, and every now and then she pressed it tighter to
draw him to herself.

Miss Thompson said after Mamma, "And this is Mary."

Her mournful eyes moved and sparkled as if she had suddenly thought of
something for herself.

"I am sure," she said, "they will be very good."

Mamma shook her head, as much as to say Miss Thompson must not build on
it.

Every weekday from ten to twelve Miss Thompson came and taught them
reading, writing and arithmetic. Every Wednesday at half-past eleven
the boys' tutor, Mr. Sippett, looked in and taught Rodney "_Mensa_: a
table."

Mamma told them they must never be naughty with Miss Thompson because
her mother was dead.

They went away and talked about her among the gooseberry bushes at the
bottom of the garden.