will certainly be
off to London this evening.'

Tom, however, joined the listless promenade; and the first time croquet
was again mentioned, observed that he had seen the Andersons knocking
about the balls in the new gardens by the river; and proposed to go
down and try to get up a match. There was an instant brightening, and
Tom stepped into the drawing-room, and told Daisy to come with them.

'To play at croquet with the Andersons in the tea-gardens!' she
exclaimed. 'No, I thank you, Thomas!'

He laid his hand on her shoulder--'Gertrude,' he said, 'it is time to
have done being a spoilt baby. If you let Ethel fag herself ill, you
will rue it all your life.'

Frightened, but without clear comprehension, she turned two scared eyes
on him, and replaced the hat that she had thrown on the table, just as
Ethel and the others came in.

'Not you, Ethel,' said Tom; 'you don't know the game.'

'I can learn,' said Ethel, desperately bent on her duty.

'We would teach you,' volunteered the Cheviots.

'You would not undertake it if you knew better,' said Tom, smiling.
'Ethel's hands are not her strong point.'

'Ethel would just have to be croqued all through by her partner,' said
Gertrude.

'Besides, my father will be coming in and wanting you,' added Tom; 'he
is only at the hospital or somewhere about the town. I'll look after
this child.'

And the two sisters, delighted that poor little Gertrude should have
such a holiday treat as croquet in the public gardens, away from her
governess elder sister, walked off glorious; while Ethel, breathing
forth a heavy sigh, let herself sink into a chair, feeling as if the
silence were in itself invaluable, and as if Tom could not be enough
thanked for having gained it for her.

She was first roused by the inquiry, 'Shall I take in this letter,
ma'am? it is charged four shillings over-weight. And it is for Mr.
Thomas, ma'am,' impressively concluded the parlour-maid, as one
penetrated by Mr. Thomas's regard to small economies.

Ethel beheld a letter bloated beyond the capacities of the two bewigged
Washingtons that kept guard in its corner, and addressed in a cramped
hand unknown to her; but while she hesitated, her eye fell on another
American letter directed to Miss Mary May, in Averil Ward's well-known
writing, and turning both round, she found they had the same post-mark,
and thereupon paid the extra charge, and placed the letter where Tom
was most likely to light na