y's place
when he--when the awful thing happened--he was always jealous of your
Father because Daddy was so clever and everyone thought such a lot of
him. And Daddy never quite trusted that man."

"Couldn't we explain all that to someone?"

"Nobody will listen," said Mother, very bitterly, "nobody at all. Do you
suppose I've not tried everything? No, my dearest, there's nothing to be
done. All we can do, you and I and Daddy, is to be brave, and patient,
and--" she spoke very softly--"to pray, Bobbie, dear."

"Mother, you've got very thin," said Bobbie, abruptly.

"A little, perhaps."

"And oh," said Bobbie, "I do think you're the bravest person in the
world as well as the nicest!"

"We won't talk of all this any more, will we, dear?" said Mother; "we
must bear it and be brave. And, darling, try not to think of it. Try to
be cheerful, and to amuse yourself and the others. It's much easier for
me if you can be a little bit happy and enjoy things. Wash your poor
little round face, and let's go out into the garden for a bit."

The other two were very gentle and kind to Bobbie. And they did not
ask her what was the matter. This was Peter's idea, and he had drilled
Phyllis, who would have asked a hundred questions if she had been left
to herself.

A week later Bobbie managed to get away alone. And once more she wrote a
letter. And once more it was to the old gentleman.

"My dear Friend," she said, "you see what is in this paper. It is
not true. Father never did it. Mother says someone put the papers in
Father's desk, and she says the man under him that got Father's place
afterwards was jealous of Father, and Father suspected him a long time.
But nobody listens to a word she says, but you are so good and clever,
and you found out about the Russian gentleman's wife directly. Can't you
find out who did the treason because he wasn't Father upon my honour;
he is an Englishman and uncapable to do such things, and then they would
let Father out of prison. It is dreadful, and Mother is getting so thin.
She told us once to pray for all prisoners and captives. I see now.
Oh, do help me--there is only just Mother and me know, and we can't do
anything. Peter and Phil don't know. I'll pray for you twice every day
as long as I live if you'll only try--just try to find out. Think if it
was YOUR Daddy, what you would feel. Oh, do, do, DO help me. With love

"I remain Your affectionately little friend

"Roberta.

P.S. Mother wo