daddy, and fell down a gweat big way, and there was this gweat big girl there, and she caught me in her gweat big hands!”

The Vicar reached round his small son, to give his hand to Sydney, with a smile that she liked.

“You seem to have been very good to my little scamp,” he said, “and I’m afraid you’re quite done up with carrying the great lump—that’s what you are, Pauly! Come in and have some milk or something; and then, if you’ll tell me where you live, I’ll drive you home.”

“I am Sydney Lisle,” she answered shyly, “and I have just come to live at St. Quentin Castle.”

They had reached the pretty gabled Vicarage by now. Mr. Seaton looked at her with a[62] kindly, amused scrutiny as he held the door open for her. “So you are Miss Lisle?” was all he said.

[62]

A maid was sweeping the hall. “Would you fetch a glass of milk and some cake, Elizabeth?” the Vicar said. “Now, Miss Lisle, shall I leave you to rest and refresh yourself in the dining-room, or will you like better to come to Pauly’s nursery, while I put him into dry clothes?”

“Oh, the nursery, please!” said Sydney.

Pauly led the way up the steep uncarpeted nursery stairs, guarded at the top by a wicket gate, and would have liked to do the honours of “my wocking horse” and “my own bed,” but his father quietly checked him.

“Go into the night nursery and take your shoes and socks off, Pauly. Now, Miss Lisle, sit down in that chair, please. Here comes the milk—that’s right.”

He put the milk and cake on a small table beside her, and retired into the night nursery to find dry clothes for his little son. Sydney drank the milk and ate a noble slice of cake, finding herself really very hungry now that she had time to think about it.

Mr. Seaton redressed his little son with a speed which showed he was not playing nurse[63] for the first time, and the two came back into the day nursery, the Vicar carrying sundry little muddy garments to hang on the high nursery guard. He talked very pleasantly to Sydney all the time, asking where she had lived before, and whether she knew Blankshire at all.

[63]

“No, we usually go somewhere near London for our holidays,” she explained. “You see, there are a 

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