ords of French, begging him to go, and Bob,
though unwillingly, gave in.

"All right," he said. "Go to bed, little 'un. I'll do as I promised
about writing." He saluted Mrs. Rainham stiffly. "You'll remember,
Mrs. Rainham, that she stayed out solely at my wish--I take full
responsibility, and I'll be ready to tell my father so." The door closed
behind Cecilia, and he strode away down the street, biting his lip. He
felt abominably as though he had deserted the little sister--and yet,
what else could he do? One could not remain for ever, brawling on a
doorstep at midnight--and Tommy had begged him to go. Still--

"Hang it!" he said viciously. "If she were only a decent Hun to fight!"

In the grim house in Lancaster Gate Cecilia was facing the music alone.
She listened unmoved, as she had listened many times before, to
the catalogue of her sins and misdeeds--only she had never seen her
stepmother quite so angry. Finally, a door above opened, and Mark
Rainham looked out, his dull, colourless face weakly irritable.

"I wish you'd stop that noise, and let the girl go to bed," he said.
"Come here, Cecilia."

She went to him hesitating, and he looked at her with a spark of
compassion. Then he kissed her.

"Good night," he said, as though he had called her to him simply to say
it, and not to separate her from the furious woman who stood looking
at them. "Run off to bed, now--no more talking." Cecilia ran upstairs
obediently. Behind her, as she neared her attic, she heard her
stepmother's voice break out anew.

"Just fancy Papa!" she muttered. Any mother sensations were lost in
wonder at her father's actually having intervened. The incredible thing
had happened. For a moment she felt a wave of pity for him, left alone
to face the shrill voice. Then she shrugged her shoulders.

"Ah, well--he married her," she said. "I suppose he has had it many a
time. Perhaps he knows how to stop it--I don't!" She laughed, turning
the key in the lock, and sitting down beside the open window. The
glamour of her happy evening was still upon her; even the scene with her
stepmother had not had power to chase it away. The scene was only to be
expected; the laughter of the evening was worth so every-day a penalty.
And the end of Mrs. Rainham's rule was nearly in sight. Not even to
herself for a moment would she admit that there was any possibility of
Bob failing to "make good" and take her away.

She went downstairs next morning to an atmosph