quire, and keep the
general household in unity was a task that required unusual powers of
tact, and a capacity for administration and organization that was worthy
of a wider sphere. She might be described as the axle of the family
wheel, for she was the unobtrusive center around which everything
unconsciously revolved.

But by this time Lilias and Dulcie will have ridden up hill and down
dale, and will be turning Rajah and Peri in at the great wrought-iron
gates of Cheverley Chase, and trotting through the park, and up the
laurel-bordered carriage drive to the house. There was quite a big
welcome for them when they arrived. Everard had returned the day before
from Harrow, Roland was back from his preparatory school, and the two
little ones, Bevis and Clifford, had just said good-by for three weeks
to their nursery governess, and in consequence were in the wildest of
holiday spirits. There was a general family pilgrimage round the
premises to look at all the most cherished treasures, the horses, the
pigeons, the pet rabbits, the new puppies, the garden, and the woods
beyond the park; there were talks with the grooms and the keepers, and
plans for cutting evergreens and decorating both the house and the
village church in orthodox Christmas fashion.

"It's lovely to be at home again," sighed Lilias with satisfaction, as
the three elder ones sauntered back through the winding paths of the
terraced vegetable garden.

"And such a home, too!" exulted Dulcie.

"Rather!" agreed Everard. "That was exactly what was in my mind. The
first thing I thought when I looked out of the window this morning was:
'What a ripping place it is, and some day it will be all mine.'"

"Yours, Everard?"

"Why, of course. Who's else should it be? The Chase has always gone
strictly in the male line, and I'm the oldest grandson, so naturally I'm
the heir. It goes without saying!"

Dulcie's pink face was looking puzzled.

"Do you mean to say if Grandfather were to die, that everything would be
yours?" she asked. "Would you be the Squire?"

"I believe I'm called 'the young squire' already," replied Everard
airily.

"But what about the rest of us?" objected Dulcie.

"Oh, I'd look after you, of course! The heir always does something for
the younger ones. You needn't be afraid on that score!"

Everard's tone was magnanimous and patronizing in the extreme. He was
gazing at the house with an air of evident proprietorship. Dulcie, who
had never