t difference to her feelings.

"If you can peg it out in comfort with the dragon so much to the good.
Shouldn't care to live here myself though. It's a dull hole. Number 10,
Abbey Close wouldn't be my choice of a residence."

"Well, it's not likely you'll ever have the chance of living here!"
retorted Winona, taking up the cudgels for her adopted home.

"I don't know about that," returned Percy. "The house belongs to Aunt
Harriet. She'll have to leave her property to somebody, I suppose, when
she shuffles off this mortal coil. I'm the eldest son, and my name's
Percy Beach Woodward. That ought to count for something."

"Aunt Harriet's not going to die yet," said Winona gravely. "I think
it's horrid of you to talk like this!"

"Oh, I don't wish the old girl any harm, but one may have an eye to the
future all the same," was the airy response. "D'you remember Jack
Cassidy who was a pupil at the Vicarage? His aunt left him five thousand
pounds."

"Yes, and I heard he's muddling it away as fast as he can. Mary James
told me. Her father's guardian of part of his property until he's
twenty-five, you know."

"He's a topper, is Jack! He's promised to take me for a day sometime to
Hartleburn, when the races are on. Now don't you go blabbing, or I'll
never tell you anything again!"

"Mr. Joynson said--"

"Oh, for goodness sake shut up! A boy of sixteen isn't going to be
bear-led by an old fogey like Joynson. He has the mater far too much
under his finger and thumb for my taste. If you want to be chums with
me, don't preach!"

Winona was silent. Her brother's infatuation for the Vicar's scapegrace
ward was the affair of a year ago. She had hoped he had forgotten it.
His escapades at the time, in company with his hero, had caused his
mother to seek the advice and guidance of her trustee.

"Some one was telling me the other day that old oak furniture is worth a
tremendous lot of money now," continued Percy, his eye roving round the
room with an air almost of future proprietorship. "If that's so these
things of Aunt Harriet's are a little gold mine. There was an account of
a sale in the newspaper, with a picture of a cupboard that fetched two
hundred pounds. It was first cousin to that!" nodding at a splendidly
carved old piece which faced him.

Miss Beach's household goods were inherited from her great-grandfather,
and included some fine specimens of oak, as well as rare Chippendale.
Winona was too young to be a connois