ever we spoke of these gifts, they would be forbidden, and Peter would never come any more. So we were most careful.
So was Peter.
So careful that he brought his gifts after dark. Martha used to have to go down the garden and wait for them—wait so long, sometimes, that we fell asleep, and only got Peter's presents in the morning.
Martha had laughing brown eyes and full scarlet lips. No wonder we were impressed by the transformation of this cheerful and familiar presence into something heavy-eyed and secret. One morning she came out of our mother's room sobbing, and went away without saying good-bye though she wasn't ever coming back, the cook said.
Our mother was so unwell that day she did not want even me in the room.
In the evening Bettina and I went into the kitchen to ask Mrs. Ransom what had become of Martha.
Mrs. Ransom was in a bad temper. She said roughly that Martha had gone under.
"Under? Under what?"
