"Can't you put out a fire in the cane once it begins?" asked Miss Chase with interest.
"No," was the answer; "you can only try to stop it spreading by cutting as wide a path as possible between the burning part and the sound. It takes all hands to do it, though, and some of the coolies can't be got to work for love or money. It is a nasty business when it happens."
Bob started off home early; not quite so early as he had meant to, because when his horse was brought round ready saddled, he found it had lamed itself somehow in the stable. He therefore borrowed a horse from Mr. Orban, and left his own to rest for a day or two.
Generally when Bob took his departure after a particularly jolly time there was a good deal of depression about. But to-day, with the arrival of Aunt Dorothy's boxes up the hill, low spirits disappeared as if by magic.
The contents of those boxes kept every one occupied the whole day. What with the excitement and curiosity over the many presents—the clothes, useful things, and games stowed quaintly into the packing-cases together; what with every one's amusement over Miss Chase's frequent astonishment at the commonest things of their everyday life, time slipped cheerily away towards evening. The children never remembered such happiness in their quiet existence before, and Miss Chase felt half inclined to weep when she saw what simple things were joys to them.
"Herbert and Brenda would laugh at them if they saw them," she thought gravely.
Brenda's photograph was very much admired. She was a beautiful girl indeed, with a proudly-carried head, and just the suspicion of a scornful curve to her lips.
Nesta suppressed a sigh as she looked at her cousin's clothes, for Nesta loved pretty things. She let out little bursts of admiration that amused her aunt considerably.
"She looks a regular angel," Nesta said. "I never saw any one so lovely. Isn't she simply perfect, Aunt Dorothy?"
"She is a very nice girl," was all Miss Chase could be brought to admit.