The girl raised her blue eyes and looked at the woman for an instant.

‘You see,’ she said, emphasising her statements with her ringers, ’they told us to wait here till our people came for us.  So we came.  We wait till our people come for us.’

‘That is silly again,’ said Frau Ebermann.  ’It is no good for you to wait here.  Do you know what this place is?  You have been to school?  It is Berlin, the capital of Germany.’

‘Yes, yes,’ they all cried; ’Berlin, capital of Germany.  We know that.  That is why we came.’

‘So, you see, it is no good,’ she said triumphantly, ’because your people can never come for you here.’

‘They told us to come here and wait till our people came for us.’  They delivered this as if it were a lesson in school.  Then they sat still, their hands orderly folded on their laps, smiling as sweetly as ever.

‘Go away!  Go away!’ Frau Ebermann shrieked.

‘You called?’ said Anna, entering.

‘No.  Go away!  Go away!’

‘Very good, old cat,’ said the maid under her breath.  ’Next time you may call,’ and she returned to her friend in the kitchen.

‘I ask you—­ask you, please to go away,’ Frau Ebermann pleaded.  ’Go to my Anna through that door, and she will give you cakes and sweeties.  It is not kind of you to come into my room and behave so badly.’

‘Where else shall we go now?’ the elder girl demanded, turning to her little company.  They fell into discussion.  One preferred the broad street with trees, another the railway station; but when she suggested an Emperor’s palace, they agreed with her.

‘We will go then,’ she said, and added half apologetically to Frau Ebermann, ’You see, they are so little they like to meet all the others.’

‘What others?’ said Frau Ebermann.

’The others—­hundreds and hundreds and thousands and thousands of the others.’

‘That is a lie.  There cannot be a hundred even, much less a thousand,’ cried Frau Ebermann.

‘So?’ said the girl politely.

’Yes. I tell you; and I have very good information.  I know how it happened.  You should have been more careful.  You should not have run out to see the horses and guns passing.  That is how it is done when our troops pass through.  My son has written me so.’

They had clambered down from the sofa, and gathered round the bed with eager, interested eyes.

‘Horses and guns going by—­how fine!’ some one whispered.

’Yes, yes; believe me, that is how the accidents to the children happen.  You must know yourself that it is true.  One runs out to look—­’

‘But I never saw any at all,’ a boy cried sorrowfully.  ’Only one noise I heard.  That was when Aunt Emmeline’s house fell down.’