THEIR FORTUNATE ESCAPE 95 



to the window was set with places for two, a posy of 

 poets' narcissus and the last lilies-of- the- valley between, 

 while a folded napkin at one place rested on a news- 

 paper ! 



"I thought we were to get our own breakfasts," 1 

 said, in a tone of very feeble expostulation, which plainly 

 told that, at that particular moment, it was the last 

 thing I wished to do. 



"You are, the very minute you feel like it, and not 

 before ! You must let yourselves down gradually, and 

 not bolt out of the house as if you had been evicted. 

 If Bart went paperless and letterless this very first morn- 

 ing, until he has met something that interests him more, 

 he would think about the lack of the news and the mail 

 all day until they became more than usually important !" 

 So saying, Maria swept the stems and litter of the flowers 

 she had been arranging into her apron, and annexing 

 the Infant to one capable finger, all the other nine being 

 occupied, she went down the path toward the garden 

 for fresh supplies, leaving Ann-stasia, as the Infant 

 calls her, to serve the coffee, a prerogative of which she 

 would not consent to be bereft, not even upon the plea 

 of lightening her labours! 



"Isn't this perfect!" I exclaimed, looking toward 

 a gap in the hills that was framed by the debatable 



