Ah, I
thought our Australian friend would be calling attention to himself ere
the festive season had quite departed. He writes from Adelaide on this
occasion. That indicates a move if I mistake not. His usual
_pied-a-terre_ has been Brisbane hitherto, has it not?"

His little dark eyes interrogated Avery for a moment before they vanished
inwards with disconcerting completeness.

Avery stiffened instinctively. She was well aware that Mr. Lorimer did
not like her, but the fact held no disturbing element. To her mind the
dislike of the man was preferable to his favour and after all she saw but
little of him.

She went on therefore with her occupation of cutting bread and butter for
the children with no sign of annoyance save that slight, scarcely
perceptible stiffening of the neck which only Gracie saw.

"I hope you are kind to your faithful correspondent," smiled Mr. Lorimer,
still holding the letter between his finger and thumb. "He evidently
regards your friendship as a pearl of price, and doubtless he is
well-advised to do so."

Here he opened his eyes again, and sent a barbed glance at Avery's
unresponsive face.

"Friendship is a beautiful thing, is it not?" he said.

"It is," said Avery, deftly cutting her fifth slice.

The Reverend Stephen proceeded with clerical fervour to embellish his
subject, for no especial reason save the pleasure of listening to his own
eloquence--a pleasure which never palled. "It partakes of that divine
quality of charity so sadly lacking in many of us, and sheds golden beams
of sunshine in the humblest earthly home. It has been aptly called the
true earnest of eternity."

"Really!" said Avery.

"An exquisite thought, is it not?" said the Vicar. "Grace, my child, for
the one-and-twentieth time I must beg of you not to swing your legs when
sitting at table."

"I wasn't," said Gracie.

Her father's brows were elevated in surprise. His eyes as a consequence
were opened rather wider than usual, revealing an unmistakably
malignant gleam.

"That is not the way in which a Christian child should receive
admonition," he said. "If you were not swinging your legs, you were
fidgeting in a fashion which you very well know to be unmannerly. Do not
let me have to complain of your behaviour again!"

Gracie's cheeks were crimson, her violet eyes blazing with resentment;
and Avery, dreading an outburst, laid a gentle restraining hand upon her
shoulder for an instant.

The action was well