She was beginning to wonder about the children. They were very quiet out there. She should have taken a look out at them on her way upstairs with the flowers. She wanted to hurry to them, but Bennie was in her way. She had to push him with her foot, because he had gone to sleep on the landing and the landing was very little bigger than he was. When Bennie was up, she hurried down the stairs and into the front sitting room and looked out through the bow window.

The children were all right. She had forgotten about them for a time, and so endangered them, but they were all right. She continued to look at them without speaking to them. They didn’t see her. They didn’t seem to have moved from the rug since she left them. They were undressing a small rag doll. When the doll was naked they would dress it again. They sat facing the railings so that they could see whatever went on out there on the quiet, narrow road. Far away at the head of the road some children were playing. Mrs. Bagot could hear their voices from the distance. She was pleased at the way her children looked in their short pink dresses. She was leaning across the table of ferns that crowded the window. One of the taller ferns tickled her chin and she stepped back. The ferns were in good condition. The flowered carpet she stood on was well brushed. It looked very nice under her feet. Her shoes were new. She was breaking them in, wearing them around the house, but she shouldn’t have worn them into the garden. Fortunately it was a dry day. The shoes were as clean and shining as when she put them on in the early morning. Bennie was there at her feet, of course, looking up at her. Bennie, too, looked very well today. His nose glistened, and his tiny brown eyes were full of life. His coat was snow white and woolly. She had given him a bath yesterday. He looked like a new dog. He opened his mouth, to catch more of her attention, and Mrs. Bagot remarked that he had the strong white teeth of a very young dog.