uld, either, so
it's a happy surprise as well!"

"There's not a blush about you, that's one thing," said Jim, from the
depths of his big box.

"Wore out all my powers that way blushing over you!" was Wally's prompt
reply. "Norah, will you use that thing for cocoa, or what?"

"Don't be disrespectful--I'm admiring it," Norah answered, turning the
cup round. "Dad will like it awfully."

"Has he shown you his prizes?"

"Prizes!" Norah exclaimed, falling off the arm of the sofa in
amazement. "Jim, you horrid boy, you never told us. Show me at once!"

"Never thought about 'em," said the unhappy Jim, un-earthing two
resplendent books. "Here you are, anyhow--and Wally needn't talk; he's
got three!"

"I'm faint in the presence of so much learning!" Norah said, sitting
down on a golf bag. "Who'd ever have suspected you? French and
Prefect's Prize--oh, I'm so glad you got that one, Jim, dear." Her quick
ear caught a step, and she called her father excitedly.

Mr. Linton entered, to be greeted by incoherent tidings of his son's
success, to the meaning of which the two books lent aid.

"That's especially good news, old chap," he said quietly, whereat Jim
grinned happily, blushed with fervour, and muttered something entirely
inaudible. "The cup, too! that's a beauty, and no mistake!" He looked
round the "perfick shambles," and laughed a little. "I don't think
they're very safe here," he said. "With your permission, I'll take
charge of them." He left the room, carrying the books and the cup with
him.

At the door he paused.

"Don't forget Cecil," he said quietly, and was gone.

The trio looked blank.

"Cecil!" said Wally.

"Hang Cecil!" from Jim disgustedly.

"Oh, he's such a bore!" Norah said. "And he'd simply hate to be in
here--he wouldn't see any fun in it. I--I really think I've had an
overdose of Cecil."

"Poor old kid!" said Jim. "Well, we'll hurry up unpacking and then find
him." They dismissed the "bit of a drawback" airily from their minds,
and proceeded with the business in hand, hampered slightly by much
energetic conversation. Jim's boxes were full of interesting things,
the result of his six years at school; his packing, he said, with
pained recollection, had been a "corker."

"Lucky I had that extra chest of drawers put in here," remarked Norah,
stowing away numerous small articles. "Jim, how many boys gave you
knives as farewell gifts?"

"Sorra a one of me knows," said her brother. "I lost coun