ound of Greek columns.
The decidedly foreign look about it was justified by the photographer's
name in the corner: "Carlo Salviati, Palermo." Over the top was written
in ink, in a man's handwriting: "My wife and Leslie, from Tristram."

"Who is it?" asked Everard, gazing at the portrait with curiosity.
"She's rather decent looking. Never seen her here, though, that I can
remember!"

"It's a ducky little baby! But who is Tristram?" said Dulcie.

"We had an Uncle Tristram once," answered Lilias doubtfully.

"Why, but he died years and years ago, when we were all kids!" returned
Everard.

"I know. He was the only Tristram in the family, though. I can't
imagine who these two can be. Leslie, too! Why, that's Grandfather's
name! Was the baby christened after him?"

"We'll ask Cousin Clare sometime," said Dulcie, so interested that she
could scarcely tear herself away. "I really want to know most fearfully
who they are."

"Oh, don't bother about photos at present! Let's find Grandfather!"
urged Everard. "Perhaps he's gone down to the stables, or he may be in
the gun-room."

On further inquiry, however, they ascertained that a telegram had
arrived for Mr. Ingleton, on the receipt of which he had consulted Miss
Clare, had ordered the smaller car, and they had both been driven away
by Milner, the chauffeur, and were not expected back until seven or
eight o'clock in the evening. This was news indeed. For a whole day the
heads of the establishment would be absent, and the younger generation
had the place to themselves. For the next eight hours they could do
practically as they pleased.

Everard stood for a moment thinking. He did not reveal quite all that
passed through his mind, but the first instalment was sufficient for the
family.

"We'll get out the touring car, take some lunch with us, and have a
joy-ride."

Five delighted faces smiled their appreciation.

"Oh, Everard! Dare we?" Dulcie's objection was consciously faint.

"Why not? When Grandfather's away, I consider I've a right to take his
place and use the car if I want. I'm master here in his absence! I'll
make it all right with him; don't you girls alarm yourselves! Tear off
and put on your coats, and tell Atkins to pack us a basket of lunch, and
to put some coffee in the thermos flasks."

With Everard willing to assume the full responsibility the girls could
not resist such a tempting offer, while the younger boys were, of
course, only too ready to fo