with me."

Mark Rainham rose with an irritably nervous movement.

"Oh, no one is ever perfect. I suspect, if each of you went a little
way to meet the other, things would be better. Your stepmother says her
nerves are all wrong, and I'm sure you do take a great deal of trouble
off her shoulders."

"Then you won't let me go?" The girl's low voice was relentless, and
her father wriggled as though he were a beetle and she were pinning him
down.

"I--I'm afraid it's out of the question, Cecilia. I should have to be
very satisfied first that Bob could offer you a home--and by that time
he'll probably be thinking of getting married, and won't want you. Why
can't you settle down comfortably to living at home?"

"There isn't any home for me apart from Bob," said the girl.

"Well, I can't help it." Mark Rainham's voice had a hopeless tone. He
walked to the door, and then half turned. "If you can make my wife agree
to your going, I won't forbid it. Good night."

"Good night," said Cecilia. The slow footsteps went up the stairs, and
she turned to her darning with a lip that curled in scorn.

"Well, that let's me out. I don't owe you anything--not even a good-bye
note on my pincushion," she said presently; and laughed a little. She
folded a finished pair of socks deliberately, and, rising, stretched
her arms luxuriously above her head. "Two more days," she whispered. She
switched off the light, and crept noiselessly upstairs.

CHAPTER VII

THE WATCH DOGS

"Well, if you ask me, she's up to something," said Avice with
conviction.

"How d'you mean?" Wilfred looked up curiously.

"Lots of things. She looks all different. First of all--look how red she
is all the time, and the excited look in her eyes."

"That's all look--look!" jeered her brother. "Girls always have those
rotten ideas about nothing at all. Just because Cecilia's got a bit
sunburnt, and because she's havin' an easy time 'cause Mater's away--"

"Oh, you think because you're a boy, you know everything," retorted his
sister hotly. "You just listen, and see if I've got rotten ideas. Did
you know, she's kept her room locked for days?"

"Well--if she has? That's nothing."

"You shut up and let me go on. Yesterday she forgot, and left it open
while she was down talking to Cook, and I slipped in. And there was
one of her great big trunks, that she always keeps in the box room,
half-packed with her things. I nicked this necklace out of it, too,"
said