"This is home, Eustace," he roused himself, and looked
about him.

Even a Colonial child, accustomed to vastness, could not help
admiring such a place as this, full of fine old trees spreading
over the short cropped turf. The park was hilly, and swept away to
right and left towards thick woods.

Then, as the carriage reached a bend and came into full view of the
great house, standing gray, massive, and strong in the evening
light, the children's hearts did thrill with pride. This was
something better than their own slenderly-built, iron-roofed house
in Queensland.

"There are Herbert and Brenda waiting for us," said Mrs. Chase,
"but I don't see nurse. I have got you a charming woman as nurse
for Becky and Peter. You can't be tied down to looking after the
children, you know. I want you to be free to enjoy yourself."

Peter started as if he had been shot.

"Me have a nurse!" he exclaimed. "I don't want looking after."

Eustace and Nesta glanced quickly at their mother. Becky with a
nurse! This was something extraordinary. And mother "not to be tied
down to looking after the children." When had it ever been a tie to
mother to look after them? Such a strange idea had never occurred
to any of them before, and all in their own separate ways resented
it.

Mr. Chase looked at Peter in surprise.

"When I was your age," he said gravely, "I had what was given me,
no matter what I wanted."

"We've got to think about your mother's wants first," said Mrs.
Chase, "and she deserves a holiday after all these years."

"Quite right," said Mr. Orban; "she needs one badly. I am thankful
she should have it."

There was no time to say more, for just then the carriage pulled up
under the fine old portico.

Again there was that sense of stiffness and awkwardness as the
Dixons came forward to greet their cousins; there was no triumphant
entry and welcome to the old home. Mrs. Chase drew Mrs. Orban in;
Mr. Chase took Mr. Orban; Becky, sleepy and perfectly placid, was
whisked away by a grave-faced, elderly woman who said, "Come along,
sir," to Peter, and disappeared through a red baize door, whither
the little fellow had to follow.

"We're to have meals with the little ones in the schoolroom," said
Brenda, to whom this new rule was not pleasing. "Come and get
ready."

Now that she was a schoolgirl, and only home for holidays, she had
all her meals with her grandparents except late dinner; but the
arrival of the Orbans put an