"Did you see her legs?" whispered Dickie. "Witch's legs, they were. All thin and scraggy. Sparrow's legs! That's what we'll call her, Mary - Sparrow's Legs. When I say S.L. you'll know what I mean... Gosh! I'm hungry."

At last old John said "Good night" and the car rattled away in the dusk. Mrs. Morton was shutting the front door as David came clattering down the stairs.

"I say, you kids, this is a grand place. All sorts of secret hiding-places and mysterious rooms. Come and see."

"I'm sorry, David," said Mary, "but we can't come now... We've been rude... We're to sit here quietly till I 'pologize. We're thinking of what to say."

But Richard was not so circumspect.

"What's she like really? The old witch, I mean. We've got a name for her..."

Then Mother came in with Mrs. Braid and the twins got up together.

"I'm sorry I was rude," began Mary; and "We didn't really mean to get in the way," finished her twin.

Quite unexpectedly Mrs. Braid smiled. And when she smiled she looked quite different. Not a bit "witchy" and almost nice.

"Ah well," she said. "Maybe I was a bit hasty and worried. We'll say no more, my dears, except I'm sorry, too, and hope you'll soon find old Agnes's bark is worse than her bite... And now it's time for us all to bite, I'm thinking, before yon pigeon pair is packed off to bed."

And rather awkwardly she put a hand on each twin's shoulder and gave them a gentle push towards the door.

The kitchen was a big room with a low, beamed ceiling from which hung a large oil lamp. The floor was of stone and along one wall was a big kitchen range in which burned a cheerful fire. On the table was a plate piled with slices of brown bread, a jar of golden syrup, and each place was set with a boiled egg.

"It's that difficult to get a square meal with all this ray-shunning," Mrs. Braid was saying, "but Mrs. Ingles down the lane gets us milk and eggs, and I'm thinking you'll soon be wanting some pullets yourselves... and there's cocoa for those that likes it and tea for them as can't abide the stuff like me..."

"Thank you, Agnes," said Mrs. Morton. "It's a lovely meal and not a bit like wartime. Let's sit down and start."

After tea they were given a quarter of an hour to explore Witchend before the twins were packed off to bed.

It was a fascinating house - friendly downstairs and really "lived in".

An uncarpeted staircase led from the kitchen, and another door opened into the scullery which had not only a sink but a copper and a bath.

In another corner was a genial grandfather clock with a loud and friendly tick and a jolly face.