"Oh, Turly, how can you? Oh, I do so want things to be alive! Now, do just come over to the window and look down into the yard at Vulcan sitting in his kennel, poor dear, when he is longing to be running all over the world! Oh, I declare, he sees us, and is wagging his tail! Just look at his big eyes and his nose pointed up at us. Now, that is the kind of creature I want to play with. But there he is shut up in his cage, and we—"

"Can't we go down to him?" said Turly.

"It's too wet. Nurse would be in such a fuss if we played in the yard. But I don't see why we mightn't bring him up. He's the watch-dog, and watch-dogs are only wanted there at night. It couldn't be any harm to have him up here only for half an hour or so. I'll wipe his paws on the mat so that he sha'n't make any mess. And he doesn't bark much unless he hears a noise at night, so I am sure he wouldn't disturb Grandma."

Turly had swept away his soldiers, and stood up ready for the adventure.

"I won that battle," he said; "so now, come on!"

"Take my hand, Turly. They sha'n't say I led you into mischief this time," said Terry. "I'll take care you don't fall down the back stairs."

"I can take care of that myself," said Turly.

"No, you can't. You are not as old as I am, so hold on to me well in case the stairs are slippy."

They went out on the landing very quietly, "not to make any fuss", as Terry said, and made for the gate at the top of the stairs. Terry knew the trick of the hasp and it was quickly opened, and away they went, down flight after flight, into the yard.

"Oh, I say, it is wet!" said Turly, as they paddled across the yard with the rain pouring on them.

"Hush!" said Terry, "or someone will hear you and come running to prevent us. And it can't be any harm. It will be such a delightful treat for poor old Vulcan!"

Turly said no more, and the two children stood with the rain drenching their hair and clothes, and almost blinding them, as in silence they unfastened the chain that held Vulcan to his kennel. The dog was scarcely able to believe his senses when he felt the little soft hands pawing at his neck, and as soon as he was free he jumped on them wildly, embracing them with his hairy arms and covering them with mud.

"Quiet, now, Vulcan!" said Terry softly. "You must be very good, or we sha'n't be able to take you up to the nursery. Come along, old fellow, and pick your steps over the sloppy places."

They got safely across the yard, gained the door, and went up the stone stair, leaving streams of muddy water on all the steps behind them.

Arrived at the top, Terry looked round for a mat, but there was nothing just at that spot except the carpet, so she took out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped Vulcan's feet with it.

"It makes no difference to his wetness," she said, "but that does not matter. His feet will get dry by degrees."

"We have made a mess on the stairs," said Turly, looking back.

"Yes, I don't know how we ever got so wet," said Terry; "but stone stairs dry up so quickly. Come along now, Vulcan, you are not to bark a word or you may frighten your grandma!"

Vulcan was quite in the spirit of the adventure, and trotted quietly along with the children into the nursery.

Then the door was shut and the merriment began.

First of all the children took each one of his fore-paws and danced with him many times round the room. Vulcan enjoyed the dance for a time, and bore it patiently for another time, but at last he conveyed by a short significant bark that he had had enough of it.

"Is he getting cross?" said Turly.

"No, but I'll tell you what it is," said Terry. "He gets tired sooner than we do because we are accustomed to have only two legs to go with and he is used to four. And we have taken away two of his legs. We have been making arms of them."

"Yes indeed," said Turly, dropping the dog's paw.

"There now, Vulcan," said Terry, "you have got back all your legs, so don't be grumbling. And don't let me hear you give that bark again or there will be a fuss."

"What are you going to do with him now?" said Turly. "If he can't dance about or bark what's the good of him?"

"I'll show you," said Terry. "Now, Vulcan, darling, you are going to sit down in this nice large basket-chair, Nursey's chair, you know, and I'm going to change you into such a dear old woman. You can't have a nursery, you know, without a nurse, and you're going to be our nurse. Mind him, Turly, until I get a few things. Here is Nurse Nancy's gown, not her best stuff, nor her clean cotton, but the cotton she had on yesterday morning. And here's her cap, the one she has put away for the wash, and yet it's nice enough. Now sit up, Vulcan, and let me dress you!"

"You are taking away two of his legs again, and he won't like it," said Turly.

"Oh! he won't care now, because he is sitting. He doesn't want four legs to sit with. Dancing was different. Now, Vulcan, hold yourself straight, old fellow! There, doesn't the dress fit him nicely, at least when I turn up the sleeves over his paws and tie an apron round his body to make him a waist? Dear old Nursey hasn't got much of a waist neither; now, has she, Turly? Vulcan, Vulcan, let me tie your cap-strings!"

Vulcan, who was more disturbed by his head-dress than by any other part of his costume, made a great effort to be patient while his shaggy ears were covered up in a forest of muslin frills. At last he was completely dressed, and licked the end of Terry's little nose as she bent over him to put the finishing touches to her work.

"Now, it's all right except the spectacles. Turly, Turly, look about for Nurse's spectacles. Oh, there they are on the chimney-piece! Take them out of the case quick, and give them to me."

The next minute Vulcan's patience met with its severest trial, when Terry insisted on adjusting the spectacles on his eyes and nose regardless of his growls of remonstrance.

"Now, Vulcan, darling, you know you couldn't be a proper nurse without your glasses. How could you read the newspaper or your prayer-book, or sew on the buttons? It is a pity your nose is so wide at the top, and your eyes go so far round the corners, but it can't be helped. I'm afraid I shall have to tie them on—"

At this moment the door opened and Nurse Nancy appeared.

"Oh, Nursey, isn't he lovely? Look at him!" cried Terry, running to her.

But Vulcan seemed to know he was now to be put in the wrong. He jumped up, floundering about in Nurse Nancy's cotton gown, which had got caught from the front so as to enable him to run.

Once out of the room, he vaulted over the little gate, and tumbled down the first flight of stairs, the children hurrying after him in spite of Nurse Nancy's imploring appeals.

Nurse herself was obliged to follow, and, descending, saw him rolling along, tearing her gown into holes in his efforts to get on, the children pursuing him with peals of delighted laughter.

Finally, the excited dog escaped through the open back-door into the yard, where he flopped across, the paving-stones flowing with rain, dragging Nurse's skirts behind him and buffeting her cap with his paws till he got rid of it by rending it into a hundred fragments.

At last Vulcan settled himself back in his kennel with the drenched and ragged remains of Nurse's gown and apron rolled around him, and with an air of thankfulness for his escape from persecution.

The children had followed him to the kennel, and stood dancing round him in the pouring rain. Nurse Nancy stood at the door exhorting them to come back to her.

"You bad childher, you dreadful childher! Miss Terry, I command you to come in out o' the pours of rain."

"It doesn't hurt, Nursey dear; indeed it doesn't," said Terry, as soon as her excitement allowed her to hear the voice; and she came running obediently across the yard.

"Hurt!" cried Nurse angrily, and seized a hand of each of the dripping children, marching them up the stairs in silence and into the nursery, where she deposited them on two chairs and stood looking at them in speechless indignation.

Turly looked defiant; Terry gazed at Nurse with dismay and bewilderment.

"You wicked little girl! I know it was you that did it. Turly would never have dared to."

"Yes, I would!" said Turly.

"No, indeed, he wouldn't, Nurse. It was all me. But you don't mean that I've been really wicked. Nurse, do you?"

"Don't I indeed? And my good gown in rags, and my cap in smithereens!"

"I'm very sorry about that, Nursey dear, indeed I am. I couldn't have believed Vulcan could be so stupid as to end it all that way. He just got in a fright when he saw you coming in. And I thought you would have been so delighted with the fun. And Gran'ma will get you a new gown and a new cap when I tell her all about it."

Nurse took no notice of her protests.

"Both of you drenched to the skin! Let me feel your things! Every stitch on you sopping with wet! I'll have to get a warm bath ready for you, and put you in bed. And it's well if I can let you up to see your gran'mama at tea-time."

"Oh, Nurse, and I did so want to show her the things I worked for her! She wouldn't be angry; not if I told her myself. I know it would make her laugh—"

"'Deed, and you sha'n't tell her a word of it, Miss Terry. If she was asleep and didn't hear the scrimmage, we'll just leave her in peace about it."

"Oh, is it as bad as that?" said Terry. "So bad that I am not to tell Gran'ma?"

"It is as bad as bad—as that it couldn't be badder!" cried Nurse Nancy. "My gown and cap ruinated, my nursery spattered with mud, the back stairs like a street with clay an' rain, yourselves drenched an' drownded, an' your clothes spoiled. And into the bargain," added Nancy, with a quaver in her voice, "my spectacles broken into smash, an' I without e'er another pair to see my way about the house with!"

"Your spectacles!" cried Terry, now at last stricken with remorse. "Oh, Nursey, do you really mean that your spectacles are broken?"

Nurse Nancy answered by holding up an empty rim from which all trace of glasses had departed.

Then Terry said no more, but crept meekly into her little bed, burrowed into the pillows, and wept.