Marilla saw the four go over to the cottage, as it was called. She had been tired out with the railroad journey, entertaining as it was, then the excitement of meeting them all again, the bump on her forehead when she had come down so hard on Pansy's head, and the screams that seemed like a stab going from temple to temple tired her inexpressibly. Then, too, she was hungry. Oh, if she could have a glass of hot milk such as Jane used to bring her! She really could not help crying a little. Both babies stood up by her. Violet pounding on one shoulder, Pansy making a grab at her hair that seemed to pull it out by the roots.