Later the hearth-brush was dressed in a nightgown and laid beside Sara in her little bed.  The last thing she did before going to sleep was to gaze at her darling “blush” with rapture and say, “Nasty —­ ’ollid —­ bunny!”

Her eyelashes fluttered and then gently fell on her cheek, as a butterfly hovers and then settles on the petal of a rose.

“Leave it here, miss,” said Nannie; “she’ll see it when she wakes.”

I left the despised bunny and went to dress for dinner.  Betty was waiting for me outside.  “Is the cooking-stove for my very own self, Aunt Woggles?”

“Absolutely, Betty.  Why?”

“Only because Hugh wondered if it wasn’t or him, too.  He only wondered, and I said I didn’t suppose one present could be for two people, because then it wouldn’t be such a very real present, would it?”

I said, “Of course not”; and I told her the story of the two men who owned one elephant, and one man said to the other:  “I don’t know what you are going to do with your half; I am going to shoot mine!”

“And did he, Aunt Woggles? " asked Betty, her eyes wide with horror.

“I wonder,” I said.  “I’ll race you to the end of the passage.”

“I won,” cried Betty.  “No, we both of us did,” she added, slipping her hand into mine.

That evening Diana told me that a few days before, she had heard the following conversation between Hugh and Betty: 

“I am going to shoot my cock.”

“Hugh!” said Betty, “don’t, it’s a darlin’ cock.”

“But it doesn’t lay eggs,” said Hugh.

“I don’t think cocks are supposed to lay eggs,” said Betty thoughtfully.

“Well, I don’t see why they shouldn’t,” said Hugh; “widowers have children.”

Chapter IV

Suppose all aunts, that is to say, all professional aunt, know what it is to be visited at seven o’clock in the morning by nephews and nieces, fresh, vigorous, and rosy after a night’s rest.  Fresh, and oh! so vigorous and deliciously rosy were Hugh and Betty when they appeared at my bedside at seven o’clock the next morning.

“Hullo!” said Hugh, “we’ve come.  May we get into your bed?  I’ll get up steam and take a long run and jump in.  Shall I?”

I braced myself up for the shock.  There is no need to go through the morning’s program; I suppose every aunt knows it.  Bears, camel-rides, robbers, and various other things, all of a distinctly energetic nature.  At half past seven-you see it doesn’t take long, any aunt can bear half an hour —­ Nannie appeared, carrying a deliciously rosy Sara with her hair done on the top, which makes her more than ever fascinating; and in her arms she carried her bunny — Sara’s arms, I mean, of course.  “Nice bunny,” she said.

“Who gave you your bunny?” I asked.

“Jesus!” said Sara, triumphantly nodding her head and opening her eyes very wide.  “Jesus makes all ve bunnies, and all ve vitty dickey birds, and all ve vitty fowers, and all ve big fowers and all ve ponge cakes, and Yaya.”