ve stranger, the young Marshalls already
regarded the kindly doctor as a friend, and it was with very smiling
faces that they rang his bell that afternoon.

"I saw you arriving," cried their host, hastening to the door himself
to meet them. "I was just looking out for you, and hoping you would
come soon to interrupt a tiresome letter I felt obliged to write. Now
I'm justified in putting it off for an hour or two at any rate.
Linda's quite shocked at me! But I didn't say I wouldn't finish it
afterwards, did I? Shall we go straight through to the pine wood? I've
had the table carried out there for tea. It's the coolest place we can
find on a hot day."

By the time she had known him ten minutes, Sylvia had decided that she
liked Dr. Severn immensely. He was a tall, rather gaunt man, with a
thin, pale, clean-shaven face that bore traces of ill health or
suffering in the hollow cheeks and the lines around the mouth; his
hair was iron grey, rather long, and combed straight back from his
broad forehead, and he had the brightest, keenest, pleasantest blue
eyes that it was possible to imagine. His manner was so winning and
jolly that he made everybody feel at home immediately. He seemed to
know exactly the subjects about which boys and girls liked to talk,
and to be able to enter into everything almost as if he were a boy
himself. The four visitors soon found themselves chatting to him
perfectly freely, telling him of school scrapes and adventures, of
plans for the summer holidays, and asking his opinion on various
disputed points, while he, in turn, was full of jokes and
reminiscences of his own far-off schooldays.

"Never save the best till last!" he declared, handing round the cake
long before the plates of bread and butter were finished. "I've kept
to that motto ever since I was a small boy, and I had very good reason
for adopting it. Once, when I was a little fellow of about seven years
old, I was taken to pay a visit to an old lady who lived in the
country. Children were brought up on the plainest fare in those
days--porridge, and bread and milk, roast beef or mutton with
potatoes, rice pudding or suet dumpling, with jam roly-poly, as a
special treat on your birthday, was all that was considered good for
us; so you can imagine I felt pleased when I saw a large pudding full
of currants come on to the table at dinner-time. The old lady gave me
a generous serving, and told me to help myself to as much sugar as I
liked wit