hich followed startled the
occupants of the next room by its ring of good fellowship.

"Really," said Hilary, "the strange boy must be nicer than we thought.
Norah and he seem to be getting quite good friends. Let us hurry up,
and go and join them."

CHAPTER FOUR.

ROUND THE FIRE.

Mrs Freer wrote a grateful letter to Mr Bertrand, thanking him for his
hospitality to her son, and arranging to drive over for Rex on the
following Saturday afternoon, so that Hilary's anxiety was at an end,
and she could enjoy the strange boy's society with an easy mind. After
Norah had broken the ice, there was no further feeling of shyness. When
Rex hobbled downstairs at ten o'clock in the morning, he ensconced
himself on the old-fashioned sofa in the sewing-room, and remained there
until he adjourned into the drawing-room for the evening. The boys came
in and out as they pleased, Miss Briggs coddled him and brought him cups
of beef-tea, but it was upon the girls that he chiefly depended for
amusement. In the morning they were busy with their household duties;
but, as regular lessons had not begun, afternoon was a free time, and
while Norah drew, Lettice carved, and Hilary occupied herself
manufacturing fineries for the London visit, a brisk clatter of tongues
was kept up, in which the invalid took his full part. The sound of
five-finger exercises would come from the schoolroom overhead, but so
soon as four o'clock struck, the Mouse would steal in, in her little
white pinafore, and creep on to the corner of the sofa. She and the
"strange boy" had made friends at once, and were on the best of terms.

"I wish you lived with us for ever!" she said one afternoon, looking
lovingly in his face, as he stroked her wavy locks.

"And I wish you lived with me, Mouse," he answered. "I should like a
little sister like you, with a tiny pointed chin, and a tiny little
nose, and big dark eyes. You are a real little mouse. It is exactly
the right name for you."

"No, it's my wrong name. My true name is Geraldine Audrey. It's
written that way in the Bible."

"Dear me! that's a big name for a small person. And who gave you that
name?" asked Rex, laughing. But the child's face did not relax from its
characteristic gravity as she replied--

"My godfathers and my godmothers, and a silver mug, and a knife and fork
in a case, with `GAB' written on the handles. Only I mayn't use them
till I'm seven, in case I cut my fingers."

Dear