lease if
I wanted more than I've got."

"You're always satisfied," he said. "There never was anything easier
than pleasing you, old Tommy."

"Life's all so good, now," she said. "No hideous anxiety about you--no
Lancaster Gate--no she-dragon. Only peace, and independence, and the
work we like. Aren't you satisfied, Bob?"

"I'd like to be really independent," he said slowly. "Our amount of
debt isn't heavy, of course, and it doesn't cause real anxiety, with Mr.
Linton guaranteeing us to the bank--"

"And as we had to build again, it was worth while to improve the house
and make it just what we wanted," Tommy added. "We'll pay the debt off,
Bob. Mr. Linton assures me that with ordinary seasons we should easily
do it."

"I know, and I'm not anxious," Bob said. "Only I'll be glad when it's
done; debt, even such an easy debt as this, gives me the creeps. And I
want to feel we stand on our own feet."

"And not on the Lintons'!" said Tommy, laughing. "I quite agree--though
it's amazing to see how little they seem to mind our weight. Was there
ever such luck as meeting them, Bob?"

"Never," he agreed. "We'd have been wage-earners still, or struggling
little cocky farmers at the best, but for that letter of General
Harran's--though, I think more was due to the way you butted into their
taxi!"

"I believe it was," laughed Tommy. "It was the sort of thing to appeal
to the Lintons--it wouldn't to everybody. But the letter was behind it,
saying what a worthy young man you were!"

"Well, when you start calling me such a thing as 'worthy,' it's time I
left and got dressed for tea," said her brother, rising slowly. "English
mail ought to be in, by the way; I'm wondering what old Mr. M'Clinton
will say when he hears we were burned out in our first season."

"He'll wish he'd sent us to the snows of Canada, where such things
don't happen on New Year's day," Tommy said. "Still, he ought not to be
anxious about us--Mr. Linton wrote and told him our position was quite
sound."

"Oh, I don't think he'll worry greatly," said Bob. "I must hurry, old
girl, or I'll be late--and I want a tub before tea."

The boys came down in flannels, ready for a game of tennis after tea;
and Bob and Wally were just leaving the court after a stoutly-contested
set, when black Billy brought the mail-bag across the lawn to Mr.
Linton. The squatter unlocked it and sorted out the letters quickly.

"Nothing for you, Tommy; two for Norah; three for Bob,