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resist waiting to hear the worst about the bum.”
    â€œHere’s Mike,” said Frid.
    Mike came back, still hopping on one leg, and singing:
Hallelujah, I’m a bum!
    Hallelujah, bum again!
    Hallelujah, give us a hand up to…
    â€œShut up,” said Stephen and Colin. “What do you mean? Is he there?”
    â€œNope,” whispered Mike. “Only her luggage.”
    â€œDon’t say ‘her,’ ” said Stephen.
    Mike began to hop up and down in front of the twins singing:
Two, two, the lily-white boys,
    clothed all in green, oh.
    Colin took him by the shoulders and Stephen seized his heels. They swung him to and fro and flung him, screaming with pleasure on the sofa.
    â€œLily-white boys!” yelled Mike. “I bet she doesn’t know which is which. Do you?” He looked engagingly at Roberta. “Do you—Robin?”
    The twins turned to her, and raised their eyebrows. “Do you?” they asked.
    â€œI do when you speak,” said Roberta.
    â€œI hardly stammer at all, now,” said Stephen.
    â€œI know, but your voices are different, Stephen. And even if you didn’t speak I’d only have to look behind your ears.”
    â€œOh,” said Mike, “It’s not fair. She knows the secret. Stephen’s old mole. Old mole-dy Stephen doesn’t wash behind his ears, yah, yah, yah!”
    â€œLet’s go to your room,” said Frid. “Mike’s turning mad dog, and the scare seems to be over.”

    Roberta liked her room which was in 26. As Lady Charles had told her it was really the entrance hall but heavy curtains had been hung across it making a passage, through which the others would have to go to reach the real passage and their bedrooms. Frid showed her the rest of 26 which was all bedrooms with Nanny Burnaby living in the ex-kitchen where she could make the cups of Ovaltine that she still forced the Lampreys to drink before they went to bed. Nanny was sitting by the electric stove which she had converted into a sort of bureau. Her hair had turned much greyer. Her face was netted over with lines as if, thought Roberta, each good or ill deed of the young Lampreys had left it sign on that one face alone. She had been playing patience and received Roberta exactly as if four days instead of four years had gone by since their last meeting.
    â€œNanny,” said Frid, “things are gloomy. We’re up the spout again and there’s liable to be a bum at any moment.”
    â€œSome folk will do anything,” said Nanny darkly.
    â€œWell, I know, but I suppose they rather want their money.”
    â€œWell, his lordship had better pay them and be done with it.”
    â€œI’m afraid we haven’t got any money at the moment, Nan.”
    â€œNonsense,” said Nanny.
    She looked at Roberta and said, “You don’t grow much, Miss Robin.”
    â€œNo, Nanny. I rather think I’ve finished. I’m twenty now you know.”
    â€œSame age as Miss Frid and look how she’s shot up. You need nourishing.”
    â€œNan,” said Frid. “Uncle Gabriel’s coming tomorrow.”
    â€œH’m,” said Nanny.
    â€œWe hope he’ll pull us out of the soup.”
    â€œSo he ought to with his own flesh and blood in need.”
    Henry looked in at the door. By the singular scowl Nanny gave him, Roberta saw that he was still the favourite.
    â€œHullo, Mrs. Burnaby,” he said. “Have you heard the news? We’re in the soup.”
    â€œIt’s not the first time, Mr. Henry, and it won’t be the last. His lordship’s brother will have to attend to it.”
    Henry looked fixedly at his old nurse. “If he doesn’t,” he said, “I think we’ll really go bust.”
    Nanny’s hands, big-jointed with rheumatism, made a quick involuntary movement.
    â€œYou’ll be all right, Nan,” added Henry. “We fixed you up with an