One of the first things we did was to go and see the children; we took the train to Gravesend, and walked thence for a few miles along the riverside till we came to the solitary house where the good people lived with whom Ernest had placed them.  It was a lovely April morning, but with a fresh air blowing from off the sea; the tide was high, and the river was alive with shipping coming up with wind and tide.  Sea-gulls wheeled around us overhead, sea-weed clung everywhere to the banks which the advancing tide had not yet covered, everything was of the sea sea-ey, and the fine bracing air which blew over the water made me feel more hungry than I had done for many a day; I did not see how children could live in a better physical atmosphere than this, and applauded the selection which Ernest had made on behalf of his youngsters.

While we were still a quarter of a mile off we heard shouts and children’s laughter, and could see a lot of boys and girls romping together and running after one another.  We could not distinguish our own two, but when we got near they were soon made out, for the other children were blue-eyed, flaxen-pated little folks, whereas ours were dark and straight-haired.

We had written to say that we were coming, but had desired that nothing should be said to the children, so these paid no more attention to us than they would have done to any other stranger, who happened to visit a spot so unfrequented except by sea-faring folk, which we plainly were not.  The interest, however, in us was much quickened when it was discovered that we had got our pockets full of oranges and sweeties, to an extent greater than it had entered into their small imaginations to conceive as possible.  At first we had great difficulty in making them come near us.  They were like a lot of wild young colts, very inquisitive, but very coy and not to be cajoled easily.  The children were nine in all—­five boys and two girls belonging to Mr and Mrs Rollings, and two to Ernest.  I never saw a finer lot of children than the young Rollings, the boys were hardy, robust, fearless little fellows with eyes as clear as hawks; the elder girl was exquisitely pretty, but the younger one was a mere baby.  I felt as I looked at them, that if I had had children of my own I could have wished no better home for them, nor better companions.

Georgie and Alice, Ernest’s two children, were evidently quite as one family with the others, and called Mr and Mrs Rollings uncle and aunt.  They had been so young when they were first brought to the house that they had been looked upon in the light of new babies who had been born into the family.  They knew nothing about Mr and Mrs Rollings being paid so much a week to look after them.  Ernest asked them all what they wanted to be.  They had only one idea; one and all, Georgie among the rest, wanted to be bargemen.  Young ducks could hardly have a more evident hankering after the water.