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o association with the children of her husband's first marriage. They were problems that Fate had previously removed from her path; she

dren themselves. Not that she ever dreamed of breaking off her engagement on their account. She was a milliner in a Kensington shop, and to marry Mark Rainham, who was vaguely "something in the city

her had never concerned himself greatly about them. A lazy and selfish man, he had always been willing to shelve the care of his small son and daughter-babies were not in his line, and the a

unt Margaret-who, they instinctively felt, liked him no better than they did-and then disappeared, whereupon every one was immensely relieved. Even the fact that he generally brought them a packet of expensive sweets was as nothing beside the harrowing knowledge that they must kiss him, thereby having their faces brushed with a large and scrubby moustache. Aunt Margaret and nurse did not have to endure this infliction-which seemed to Bob and Cecilia obviously unfair. But the visits did not often happen-not enough to disturb seriously an existence crammed with interesting things like puppies and kittens, the pony cart, boats on the r

ies shook her to her foundations. Even when she was assured that the new Mrs. Rainham disliked children, and had not the slightest intention of adding Bob and Cecilia to her household, Aunt Margaret remained uneasy. The red-haired person, as she mentally labelled her, might change her mind. Mark Rainham was wax in her hands, and wou

as Aunt Margaret had shrewdly hoped it would, almost as though the Twickenham household had gone to the North Pole. A great relief fell upon them, since there could now be no question of assuming duties when those duties were suddenly beyond their reach. And Aunt Margaret's letter was convincing-such a good offer, suddenly, for the Twickenham house; such excellent educational opportunities for the children, in the shape of semi-English schools, where Bob and Cecilia might mix with English ch

tion; then there were wonderful excursions far afield-holidays in Brussels, in the South of France, even winter sporting in Switzerland. Aunt Margaret was determined that her nurselings should miss nothing that she could give them. The duty letters which she insisted on their writing, once a month, to their father told of happenings that seemed strangely remote from the humdrum life of L

f money to spend on gadding abo

some of it," her husband would answer. Mone

war, putting aside toys, with all the glad company of boys of the Empire, until such time as the Hun should be taught that he had no place among white men. Aunt Margaret and Cecilia, knitting frantically at socks and mufflers and Balaclava helmets, were desperately proud of him, and compared his photograph, in uniform, with all the pictures of Etienne and Henri and Armand, and other French boys who had played with him under the trees at Fontainebleau, and had now mar

ospital where she worked from the first few months of the war-working as cook, since she had no nursing experience, and was, she remarked, too old to learn a new tr

nkable that she should put the sea between herself and Bob. But to remain was impossible. Aunt Margaret's English maids wanted to go back to their friends, and a girl of seventeen could scarcely stay alone in a country torn by two years of war. Besides,

tering their course in obedience to the destroyer nosing ahead of them through the Channel mist; and she could see the face of the captain on the bridge, strained and anxious. There were so few civilians on board that Cecilia and the two old servants were greeted with curious stares; nearly all the passengers were in uniform, their boots caked with the mud of the trenches, their khaki soiled with the grime of war. It was all rather dream-like to Cecilia; and London itself was a very bad dream; darkened and silent, with the great beams of searchlights playing back and forth over the black skies in search of marauding Zeppelins. And then came

period of domestic stress. Aunt Margaret had trained Cecilia thoroughly in all housewifely virtues, and her half-French education had given her much that was lacking in the stodgy damsels of Mrs. Rainham's acquaintance. She was quick and courteous and

e'll find some nice war-work for you presently". . . and meanwhile, the household was short-handed, Mrs. Rainham was overstrained-Cecilia found later that her stepmother was always "overstrained" whenever she spoke of leaving home-and duties multiplied about her and hemmed her in. Mrs. Rainham was clever; the net closed r

sappeared, bound for some mysterious place in the city-the part of London that was always full of mystery to Cecilia. Golf was the one thing that roused him to any enthusiasm, and golf was even more of a mystery than the city. Cecilia knew that it was played with assorted weapons, kept in a bag, and used for smiting a small ball over great expanses of country, but beyond these fac

owance for Bob also, and some day, if luck should turn, there might be a little more. Bob did not say that his own allowance was being hoarded for Cecilia, in case he "went west." He lived on his pay, and even managed to save something out of that, being a youth of simple tastes. His battalion had been practically wiped out of existence in the third year of the war, and after a peaceful

Cecilia she failed to see that she defeated her own ends by making her a drudge. Whatever benefit the girl might have given the children was lost in their contempt for her. She had no authority, no power to enforce a command, or to give a punishment, and the children quickly discovered that, so long as they gave her the merest show of obedience in their mother's presence, any shortcomings in education would be laid at Cecilia's door. Lesson time became a period of rare sport for the young Rainhams; it was so easy to bait the new sister with cheap taunts, to watch the quick blood mount to the very roots of her fair hair, to do just as little as possible, and then to see her blamed for the result. Mrs. Rainham's bitter tongue grew more and more uncontrolled as time went on and she felt the girl more fully in her power. And Cecilia lived through each day with tight-shut lips, conscious of one clear thin

ng as she went about her work, undismayed by the laboured witticisms of Avice and Wilfred, or by Mrs. Rainham's venom, which increased with the realization that her victim might possibly slip from her grasp, since Bob would come home, and Bob was a person to be reckoned with. Certainly Bob had scarcely any money; moreover, Cecilia was n

Bob, London merely meant Cecilia. It was only a question of time before he discovered something of what life at Lancaster Gate meant-his enlightenment beginning upon an afternoon when, arriving unexpectedly, and being left by Eliza to find Cecilia for himself, he had the good fortune to overhear Mrs. Rainham in one of her best efforts-a "wigging" to which Avice and Wilfred were listening deligh

been puzzling to Bob were suddenly made clear-traces of distress which Cecilia had often explained away vaguely, the children's half-contemptuous manner towards her, even Eliza's

dent that she does not give you satisfaction, and she certa

her freezingly, "and w

hesi

enty of place

u could not be with her. Your father would not hear of it. You must

r of us," Bob said bitterly. "He surely w

ifferent matter. If you attempt to take Cecilia from his control you commit an illegal action," said Mrs. Rainham-ho

ers," he began doubtfully.

get some kind of legal injunction, forbidding you to interfere with your sister. Home training is what she needs, and

, legal tentacle and claw her back, it was clear that her position would be harder than ever. He could only give in, at any rate, for the present, and in his anxiety for the little sister whom Aun

rn for the very comfortable home we give her." With which Bob had to endeavour to be content, for the present. He went off to find Cecilia, with a lowering brow, leaving his stepmother not nearl

fellow could go back to swotting over books after being really alive for nearly five years." There seemed nothing but "the land" in some shape or form; they were not very clear about it, but Bob was strenuously "keeping his ears open"-like so many lads of his rank in the early months of 1919, when the future that had seemed so indefinite during the years of war suddenly loomed up, very large and menacing. Cecilia had less anxiety; she had a cheerful faith that Bob would ma

ting not a finger to save her. He did not look happy; indeed, he seldom spoke-it was not necessary, when Mrs. Rainham held the floor. He had a tiny den which he used as a smoking-room, and there he spent most of his time when at home, being blessed i

very much astonished had anyone hinted at such a thing to her. The sharp eyes of the little Cockney were not to be deceived in an

," said Eliza to Cook, in the privacy of their j

'ad the sperrit of a man," said Cook

bout them two. I'd ruther 'ave my ole man, down W'itechapel way; 'e can belt yer a fair terror, w'en 'e's d

don't belt '

y ole man, even wivout no kipper, than 'ave us allers lookin' at each other as if we

is, you ain't 'ad more of