thick with snow. I was glad to come back to
London for a change. This is the first grown-up party I have been to in
my life."

Mr Rayner smiled a little, repeating her words and lingering with
enjoyment on the childish expression. "The first _party_! Is it
indeed? I only wish it were mine. I don't mean to pretend that I am
bored by visiting, as is the fashionable position nowadays. I am too
fond of seeing and studying my fellow-creatures for that ever to be
possible, but a first experience of any kind has an interest which
cannot be repeated. I am like you, I don't like winter. I feel half
alive in cold weather, and would like to go to bed and stay there until
it was warm again. There is no country in the world more charming than
England for seven months of the year, and none so abominable for the
remaining five. If it were not for my work I would always winter
abroad, but I am obliged to be in the hum of things. How do you manage
to amuse yourself in the Lakes?"

"We don't manage at all," said Hilary frankly. "At least, I mean we are
very happy, of course, because there are so many of us, and we are
always having fun and jokes among ourselves; but we have nothing in the
way of regular entertainments, and it gets awfully dull. My sisters and
I had a big grumbling festival on New Year's Day, and told all our woes
to father. He was very kind, and said he would see what could be done,
and that's why I came up to London--to give me a little change."

"I see!" Mr Rayner looked into the girl's face with a scrutinising
look. "So you are dull and dissatisfied with your surroundings. That's
a pity! You ought to be so happy, with such a father, brothers, and
sisters around you, and youth, and health! It seems to me that you are
very well off."

Hilary put up her chin with an air of offended dignity. For one moment
she felt thoroughly annoyed, but the next, her heart softened, for it
was impossible to be vexed with this interesting stranger, with his
pathetic, pain-marked face. Why had he used that word "consolation" in
reference to his work? And why did his voice take that plaintive note
as he spoke of "youth and health"? "I shall ask father about him," said
Hilary to herself; and just at that moment Mr Bertrand came rushing
across the room with tardy remembrance.

"My dear child, I forgot all about you. Are you all right? Have you
had some coffee? Have you found anyone to--er--" He turned a
quest