any one else. No tears choked little
Peter's voice when he described Aunt Dorothy's first day, or told
the story of her quaint mistakes. He quite forgot the sad part of
her visit, and lost himself in his stories. The old man led him on
from point to point, and learned all that he could of his beloved
daughter's stay in Queensland without Peter's guessing what he was
really doing.

The little fellow was radiantly happy. They walked about the
grounds together, and presently Mr. Chase said Peter must learn to
ride--he would teach him himself. Accordingly, out went Peter on a
little pony with Mr. Chase at its head, and the riding lessons
began.

"It doesn't look as if grandfather thought it was Peter's fault,"
said Nesta to Eustace; "he seems fonder of him than any one."

If Peter was content, not so the twins. The scene with Herbert had
produced a very uncomfortable state of affairs. He no longer played
the part of host, but kept out of his cousins' way as much as
possible, going out on long expeditions by himself, and never
joining the schoolroom party when he could help it.

Nesta thought him detestable, but Eustace had a feeling that
Herbert had been very hardly treated in his own home. He could not
forget how genuine had been the big fellow's unhappiness over the
awful loss of his beloved aunt, and Eustace could have forgiven
much more than the outburst against Peter in the face of such real
distress. But he had no chance of showing his sympathy; Herbert
would have resented any exhibition of sentiment most haughtily.
Eustace only felt exceedingly awkward whenever he was with him, and
wished with all his heart he could awake to find all these
unfortunate English experiences nothing but a bad dream.

Between her loyalty to her brother and the sense of courtesy that
bade her look after her cousins, Brenda had a very difficult course
to steer; being proud and reserved by nature, she only succeeded in
being exceedingly stiff in her attempts at civility to the twins.

"It gets horrider and horrider," Nesta said after two or three days
of it.

But the secret treaty not to trouble their mother and disturb her
enjoyment held good through everything.

"It will come to an end in a year," Eustace said bravely; "and we
couldn't bear it after we got back if we had to remember we had
spoiled mother's trip. She has been longing for it such a long
time."

Because they saw so comparatively little of their mother, it was
al