e if not of its contents. "Grandfather
is always there all morning, and no one ever disturbs him."

"That portrait over there is our great-great-grandfather," said
Brenda in the dining-room.

"No," said Nesta, shaking her head; "one more great.
Great-great-great-grandfather, Eustace Chase."

Brenda flushed with annoyance.

"Well, I really think I ought to know," she said, "considering I've
lived here all my life.--It is only great-great, isn't it,
Herbert?"

Herbert looked worried.

"No, it is three greats," he said grudgingly.

"I knew for certain," said Nesta.

Brenda allowed Herbert to take up the _role_ of conductor awhile.
Nesta was getting on her nerves. But presently, in the smaller
drawing-room, they all came to a standstill in front of the picture
of a beautiful little brown-haired girl.

"That was Aunt Dorothy when she was little," said Brenda very low.

Nesta knew this also, but she said nothing for once.

Herbert led the way out of the house in silence.

Out of doors Nesta displayed just the same irritating certainty of
things. The sun-dial she noticed from a distance.

"That has '_Sic transit vita_' on it," she said hurriedly, lest she
should be forestalled. "Oh, and that tank is the little well place
mother fell into when she was Becky's age."

But she received a check later.

"The good old swing and the giant's stride," she said with
enthusiasm.

"No--new ones," said Herbert with satisfaction; "the old ones were
rotten, and these were put up for us."

Nesta put her next venture in the form of a question.

"Is that the summer-house mother and the aunts played dolls in?"

"No," said Brenda, "that fell down. This is mine. Grandfather gave
it me one birthday."

Everything had the impress of the Dixon children--everything seemed
to be "mine" or "Herbert's." It was a depressing morning for the
Australians, though Nesta did flatter herself she must have clearly
demonstrated her knowledge of Maze Court and pretty well surprised
her cousins. It annoyed her that Eustace had been so dumb, and
seemingly unable to say more than "yes" or "no" to things. It
showed a lack of spirit about him she would not have expected after
his sally about the troughs they fed out of with the coolies, and
his assertion only that morning that he felt inclined to become a
savage and astonish the Dixons.

"I expect he's afraid of Herbert," she thought; "but I'm not."

Eustace was not either, but he was just a