tall, graceful young
lady. There was, however, still some trace in her roguish mouth and
dancing eyes of the smaller Barbara who had wrought such havoc among
her enemies by firing six peas at a time instead of two.

Jack had never before been frightened at Bar, of all people in the
world; but now, if Queen Mab had not still retained her hold of his
arm, he might very likely have bolted into the shrubbery.

The girl advanced slowly across the lawn, casting inquiring glances,
first at the red coat and medals, and then at the bronzed face of the
stranger. Then suddenly her mouth opened, and she quickened her pace
to a run.

"Oh, you rascal!" she cried. "It's Jack!"

That was all the speech-making Barbara thought necessary in welcoming
the returning prodigal; and not caring a straw for bars and ribbons,
pipeclay, and "royal tigers," she embraced him in the same hearty
manner as she had always done when they met at the commencement of
bygone summer holidays.

The dainty tea-table was a great change after the barrack-room. The
pretty china cups seemed wonderfully small and fragile compared with
the familiar basin; and once Jack found himself absent-mindedly
stuffing his serviette into his sleeve, under the impression that it
was his handkerchief.

"Why, when was the last time you had tea here?" asked Barbara. "It
must have been that summer when Raymond--" She stopped short, but the
last word instantly brought to Jack's mind the recollection of that
evening when Fosberton had charged him with being a thief.

"By-the-bye," he exclaimed, "I forgot to tell you--I've found the
watch."

"Yes, I know," answered Queen Mab quietly. "Valentine gave a full
account of it in his letter."

Jack was just going to launch out into a long and forcible tirade on
the subject of the theft, but his cousin signed to him across the table
to let the matter drop.

"Aunt has been in such a dreadful way about it," she explained
afterwards. "Only she and ourselves know about it. She doesn't like
even to have Raymond's name mentioned. He has turned out a thorough
scamp, and has given Uncle Fosberton no end of trouble. Father
happened to know the friends of that officer who was killed, and when
his things were sent home the watch was returned; so it's back again
now in the same old place. Aunt has never told any one, not even
Raymond himself, as she doesn't want to bring fresh trouble on his
parents."

Later on in the evening,