ly, darlings, aren't you all glad that his book is finished?"

"We'll drink the poet's health," said the Rector.

"Oh, Father, I must kiss you.... Aren't you pleased Guy appreciated your
present?"

"Now, Pauline, you're sweeping your napkin down on the floor...."

"Oh, but, Mother, I must kiss Francis for being so sweet."

"He promised to show me the poems," said Margaret. "But Guy doesn't like
me any more."

"Oh yes, Margaret, he does. Oh, Margaret, he really does. And if you say
that, I shall have to break a secret. He's written two poems about you."

Margaret flushed.

"Has he? Well, he must certainly show them to me first or I shall veto
the publication."

"Oh, darlings," Pauline cried, "I am happy to-night! The famousness of
Guy presently ... and oh, I forgot to tell you something so touching
that happened this morning. What do you think? Miss Verney consulted me
as to whether I thought it was time she began to wear caps."

"Guy ought to write a poem about that," said Monica.

"Oh no, Monica, you're not to laugh at poor Miss Verney. I must tell her
to-morrow morning about Guy's book. She so appreciates greatness."

It was a delightful evening, and Pauline in her contentment felt that
she was back in the heart of that old Rectory life, so far did the
confidence in Guy's justification of himself enable her to leave behind
the shadows of the past two months, and most of all those miserable
escapades in the watery December moonlight.

"A book! Dear me, how important!" said Miss Verney when next morning
Pauline was telling her the news. "Quite an important event for
Wychford, I'm sure. I must write to the Stores and order a copy at once
... or perhaps, as a local celebrity ... yes, I think it would be kinder
to patronize our Wychford stationer."

"But, Miss Verney, it's not published yet, you know. We expect it won't
be published before March at the earliest."

"I don't think I ever met an author," said Miss Verney, meditatively.
"You see, my father being a sailor.... Really, an author in Wychford!...
Dear me, it's quite an important occasion."

Pauline thought she would devote the afternoon to writing the good news
to Richard, and Margaret, hearing of her intention, announced
surprisingly that Richard was coming back in April for two or three
months.

"Oh, Margaret, and you never told me."

"Well, I didn't think you took much interest in Richard nowadays. He
asked what had happened to you."

"I