"What collectors you are!" said Mr. Ogilvie.
"For the museum," answered Armine, eagerly.
"Haven't you seen our museum?" cried Barbara, who had taken his hand.
"Oh, it is such a beauty! We have got an Orobanche major, only it is
not dry yet."
"I'm afraid Babie likes fine words," said her mother; "but our museum
is a great amusement to us Londoners."
They all walked home together, talking merrily, and Mr. and Miss
Ogilvie came in with them, on special entreaty, to share the supper-—
milk, fruit, bread and butter and cheese, and sandwiches, which was
laid out on the round table in the octagon vestibule, which formed
the lowest story of the tower. It was partaken of standing, or
sitting at case on the window-seats, a form or two, an old carved
chair, or on the stairs, the children ascending them after their
meal, and after securing in their own fashion their treasures for the
morrow. The two cousins had already bidden good-night at the gate
and gone home, and the Ogilvies followed their example in ten
minutes, Caroline begging Mary to come up to her as soon as Mr.
Ogilvie was disposed of by school hours.
"But you will be busy?" said Mary.
"Never mind, I am afraid we are not very regular," said Carey.
It was by this time ten o'clock, and the two younger children were
still to be heard shouting to one another up stairs about the leaves
for their chrysalids.
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