“It hasn’t been like the same place, the world hasn’t,” said Anna-Felicitas, “since you’ve been away.”

“Since you walked out of the dining-room that night at Clark,” said Anna-Rose.

“Of course we know you can’t always be with us,” said Anna-Felicitas.

“Which we deeply regret,” interjected Anna-Rose.

“But while you are with us,” said Anna-Felicitas, “for these last few days, I would suggest that we should be happy.  As happy as we used to be on the St. Luke when we weren’t being sea-sick.”  And she thought she might even go so far as to enjoy hearing the “Ode to Dooty,” now.

“Yes,” said Anna-Rose, leaning forward.  “In three days we shall have disappeared into the maw of the Delloggs.  Do let us be happy while we can.  Who knows what their maw will be like?  But whatever it’s like,” she added firmly, “we’re going to stick in it.”

“And perhaps,” said Anna-Felicitas, “now that you’re a little restored to your normal condition, you’ll tell us what has been the matter.”

“For it’s quite clear,” said Anna-Rose, “that something has been the matter.”

“We’ve been talking it over,” said Anna-Felicitas, “and putting two and two together, and perhaps you’ll tell us what it was, and then we shall know if we’re right.”

“Perhaps I will,” said Mr. Twist, cogitating, as he continued benevolently to gaze at them.  “Let’s see—­” He hesitated, and pushed his hat off his forehead.  “I wonder if you’d understand—­”

“We’ll give our minds to it,” Anna-Felicitas assured him.

“These caps make us look more stupid than we are,” Anna-Rose assured him, deducing her own appearance from that of Anna-Felicitas.

Encouraged, but doubtful of their capabilities of comprehension on this particular point, Mr. Twist embarked rather gingerly on his explanations.  He was going to be candid from now on for the rest of his days, but the preliminary plunges were, he found, after all a little difficult.  Even with the pellucidly candid Annas, all ready with ears pricked up attentively and benevolently and minds impartial, he found it difficult.  It was because, on the subject of mothers, he feared he was up against their one prejudice.  He felt rather than knew that their attitude on this one point might be uncompromising,—­mothers were mothers, and there was an end of it; that sort of attitude, coupled with extreme reprobation of himself for supposing anything else.

He was surprised and relieved to find he was wrong.  Directly they got wind of the line his explanations were taking, which was very soon for they were giving their minds to it as they promised and Mr. Twist’s hesitations were illuminating, they interrupted.

“So we were right,” they said to each other.

“But you don’t know yet what I’m going to say,” said Mr. Twist.  “I’ve only started on the preliminaries.”

“Yes we do.  You fell out with your mother,” said Anna-Rose.