to the door and meet him
first--no one could be afraid of _you_--and sit next to Steve at table,
and stamp on his toes if he makes improving remarks. There will be
plenty of time for that later on. We mustn't spoil the first evening.
We won't let Barney linger over the greetings, but hurry him off to his
own room to prepare for dinner. It shall be served the moment he comes
back. It is so much less formidable to talk when one is eating!"

She had thought of everything--all the little niceties of consideration
which Phil herself had planned but had not yet put into words. She
could think of no objection which would have been reasonable to advance,
but made a feeble plea to be allowed to be first at the door, when Theo
cried loudly, "My dear, with that face! You would frighten the poor boy
into running away again!" and there was plainly no more to be said.

At six o'clock Barney's train was due at Waterloo. It was calculated
that he would reach home before the half-hour, and soon after the
quarter Theo set the front-door ajar, and the four sisters sat trembling
with excitement, straining their ears for the first footstep. Steve and
the Hermit were to bring the boy home from the station, and Philippa
thought pitifully of his embarrassment as he sat opposite the two solemn
faces. This home-coming must be an awful ordeal, despite the letters of
encouragement and forgiveness which had been sent to Madeira, and again
to Southampton, and for her own part she dreaded to see the bright face
clouded and ashamed.

The moments passed and no one spoke; it was half-past six--twenty-five
minutes to seven--and still Barney did not come. The invalid shivered
and drew her shawl more closely round her; Theo poked the fire and swept
the grate clear of ashes; Hope was in the act of leaving the room to
peer over the banisters, when a sound from below startled all four
sisters into instant attention. It was a sound with which they were all
familiar; perhaps the last sound in the world which they expected to
hear at that moment--a burst of merry, boyish laughter.

"Bar-ney!" gasped Phil in an incredulous whisper. The other girls stood
like so many statues, frozen into the position in which the sound had
reached them. The leaping footsteps drew nearer and nearer, a voice
called out, "Avast, there, my hearties!" and a big, bronzed fellow threw
open the door, and seizing each sister in turn, swung her off her feet
in the ardour of