Part 3 (2/2)

'Come along then,' said Justin, 'it won't take us two minutes to run up the mound,' and off they set.

CHAPTER III

GUESTS AT TEA

Rosamond drew a long breath as they reached the top of the mound.

'Oh!' she said. 'I never saw a moor before. What a long, long way you can see!' and her eyes, full of wonder and pleasure, gazed before them over the brown expanse, broken here and there by patches of green or by the still remaining purple of the fast-fading heather; here and there, too, gleams of lingering gorse faintly golden, and the little thread-like white paths, sometimes almost widening into roads, crossing in all directions, brightened the effect of the whole. For it was autumn now--late autumn indeed--and the sun was well down on his evening journey.

The breeze blew freshly in the little girl's face.

'It's rather cold,' she said, 'but I like it.'

'You might have brought your m.u.f.f,' said Archie; 'though _I_ thought people only had m.u.f.fs when it was real winter.'

Miss Mouse reddened a little.

'So they do,' she said, 'but mine is such a dear little one, so light and fluffy, and it was mamma's last present, so Aunt Mattie lets me take it out in the pony-carriage.'

Justin and Archie had, like all boys, a horror of tears, and the sad tone in Rosamond's voice made them quickly change the subject.

'Has Aunt Mattie never driven you round by the moor before?' said Justin. 'She's so fond of it.'

'But I only came the day before yesterday, and her house is quite on the other side, not wild-looking like here.'

'Of course I know that,' said Justin. 'I think it's ever so much jollier up here. Indeed, _I_ would like to live in a cottage on the moor itself.

Fancy what fun it would be to race right out first thing in the morning when you woke up, and see all the creatures waking up too--rabbits scuttering about, and the wild birds, and the frogs, and rummy creatures like that, that live about the marshy bits!'

Rosamond looked up at him with some surprise and more sympathy in her eyes than she had yet felt for the eldest of her newly-adopted cousins.

'I know,' she said, 'it's like some fairy stories I've read.'

'Oh rubbish,' said Justin. 'If you want fairy stories you must go to Pat for them. His head's full of them.'

Miss Mouse felt a little hurt at Justin's rough way of speaking. Archie, always inclined to make peace, came to the rescue.

'You were asking about Bob Crag,' he said. 'That's where he lives.'

He pointed to a spot where a clump of bushes or stunted trees stood a little way back from one of the wider tracks which ran like white tapes across the moor. No house or cottage was to be seen, but a thin waft of smoke rose slowly from the middle of the little planting.

'It's the queerest place you ever saw,' Archie went on. 'Papa says it's something like an Irish cabin, only cleaner and tidier, for Bob's old granny isn't dirty, though she's extremely queer, like her house. People say she's a gipsy, but she's lived there so long that no one is sure where she comes from. She's as old as old! I shouldn't wonder if she were really Bob's great-grandmother.'

'Has _he_ always lived with her?' asked Rosamond. 'Fancy!

_great_-grandmother.'

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