As Lallie was late for breakfast Tony only saw her for a few minutes before he had to go to College. He did not get back to the house again till nearly lunch time, when he met her at the front door, radiant, smiling, her arms full of books.

"See, Tony!" she exclaimed joyously. "I've been into the town--such a pretty town it is too, with a band playing in the promenade and all. And I found a library, and I've paid my subscription for three months; three volumes at a time; and I've chosen three books, and here they are!"

Tony followed her into the hall and Lallie held up the books, backs outwards, for his inspection.

"How did you choose them?" he asked.

"Well, I chose this one because there was such a pretty lady in the front, and I liked the cover. And I chose this one because I've read other books by the same author, and liked them. And I chose this one because the very nice lady at the library pressed it upon me and said it was 'being very much read.'

"Only one good reason, Lallie, out of the three. I'm afraid that pretty cover, with the pretty lady inside, is misleading. I, in my character of chaperon----"

"As Uncle Emileen, you mean, Tony?"

"Exactly so. I, in my character of Uncle Emileen, must veto that one, though I haven't read it myself. I'm pretty sure your father wouldn't like it."

"I'm quite sure he wouldn't, if you say so. He's awfully particular, is Dad; but he's particular in a funny sort of way. He'll let me read things that would make the hair of the entire Emileen family stand straight on end--if only they are sincere and well written; and then again, he falls foul of wishy-washy novels that Aunt Emileen would consider quite harmless."

"I don't think he would consider this either well-written or sincere, so you'd better give it to me."

"Dad says 'tis women mostly who write the dirty books--what a pity! But I think he must be wrong, don't you, Tony?"

Tony shook his head mournfully.

"A great pity," he repeated.

"I expect they do it just for the fun of shocking people. I like doing that myself."

"I've no doubt of it. All the same, I hope you'll choose some other method of scandalising society; and you'd better hand that particular volume over to me."

"And here have I walked all the way up from the town, fondly clasping that pernicious volume--Aunt Emileen's phrase, not mine--and lots of people stared hard at me, and I thought it was my nice new hat they were admiring. Here, take it, Tony, and you can come with me to return it, and then they'll think I got it for you, you old sinner."

Tony glanced nervously around lest there should be any eavesdropper to hear him called an "old sinner"; but the doors were all shut and the hall empty.

"Certainly I'll come with you to-morrow; I couldn't possibly come to-day, I was so busy. Why are you always in such a hurry, Lallie? I subscribe to that library; no one ever gets out any books except Miss Foster; and there you go paying another subscription. What waste! And why did you go by yourself?"

"And who was there to go with, pray? P--Mr. Johns was in College. You were in College. I don't know where Mrs. Wentworth was, but anyway I didn't meet her."

"What about Miss Foster?"

"Miss Foster went out while I was practising, and when she came in, I went out. Sort of 'Box and Cox,' you know."

"Try and go with Miss Foster to-morrow, Lallie, it would be so much better."

Lallie had already started to go upstairs; she paused about six steps up and leant over the banisters to look at Tony, exclaiming reproachfully:

"But you promised you'd go with me yourself to-morrow!"

"So I will, but other days--remember."

Lallie went up three more steps, and again paused and looked down.

"For a dear, kind, nice, middle-aged man, Tony, you're rather obtuse," she said. And with this cryptic speech she ran up the whole flight of stairs and vanished from his sight.

What could the child mean?

Lallie had made up her mind overnight that she would not bother Tony with any complaints about Miss Foster, so she did not tell him that directly after breakfast that lady had suggested to her that she should practise "while I am out of the house." Nor had Miss Foster made any suggestion that Lallie should accompany her during her morning's shopping. When Miss Foster came in, Lallie went out; and having in the meantime come to the conclusion that she must find amusement for herself and in no way depend upon her hostess, she found her way into the town and to the library.

By the end of a week Miss Foster had made it abundantly clear to every one concerned, except the busy and optimistic master of the house, that she felt no desire whatever for the society of Lallie Clonmell.

By mutual consent they kept out of each other's way as far as was possible. Miss Foster took every opportunity of letting Lallie see that she had no intention of acting the part of Aunt Emileen towards her; and whatever Tony might be, Lallie was not obtuse. Subtly, but none the less unmistakably, did Miss Foster impress upon her that to be the chaperon of stray young ladies did not come within the scope of the duties which she had undertaken to fulfil at B. House. She never offered to take the girl anywhere except to chapel or to the football field, where it was practically impossible that they should go separately. Moreover, Miss Foster considered it a real grievance that during the services in chapel, Lallie persisted in singing psalms, canticles, and hymns with her usual brio and enthusiasm; and the wonderfully sweet, full voice caused many upward glances at the gallery reserved for the masters' families.

Lallie had philosophically determined to make the best of a difficult situation; but like that friend of Dr. Johnson, who "would have been a philosopher but that cheerfulness kept breaking in," so, in her case, cheerfulness made extraordinarily frequent irruptions in the shape of the older boys and younger masters to an extent that sometimes threatened to be indecorously hilarious.

Not once had Miss Foster invited Lallie to accompany her when she went shopping in the morning. In fact, her daily suggestion after breakfast that her guest should "get her practising over before lunch" had become a sort of ritual. Thus it came about that Lallie took to going out by herself between twelve and one, the fashionable hour for promenading in Hamchester; and invariably her steps were bent towards the very promenade she had so admired on her first visit to the library.

Tony, who generally played fives or coached football teams after morning school until lunch time, was under the impression that she was safe in Miss Foster's care; nor had he the remotest idea that Fitzroy Clonmell's cherished only daughter, who had never in her life before walked unattended in the streets of a town, tripped off alone every morning to sun herself in the famous Hamchester promenade, where the band plays daily and the idle and well-dressed inhabitants walk up and down, gossip, or flirt as best pleases them.

The promenade at Hamchester is a long, straight street; very wide, possessed of a really fine avenue of trees, with shops on one side, and on the other public gardens and a terrace of tall Georgian dwelling-houses. The library made an excellent object for Lallie's daily walk, and if she reached the promenade unattended, she was not long permitted to stroll along in mournful solitude. Before she had been three weeks in Hamchester she knew every prefect in the whole alphabet of College houses, and for prefects, the promenade was not out of bounds.

The gallant Cripps, no longer in quarantine, often found his way thither, to the despair of the fives-playing community. Berry, hea............