rban gave a curious exclamation, and all eyes were
turned questioningly upon her.

"Mother, mother, what is it?" cried Nesta, noting the colour
flooding her mother's usually pale face.

"Any news, darling?" asked Mr. Orban.

"I should just think it is news," said Mrs. Orban unsteadily.
"Listen to this, Jack: 'Dorothy has been so very slow in her
recovery from the terrible bout of typhoid she had in spring that
the doctor advises a long sea voyage at once, and we have decided
to send her out to you by the first boat available. We go up to
London to-morrow to get her outfit.'"

"Aunt Dorothy!" yelled the children. "Aunt Dorothy coming here!"

It was a most surprising piece of news, almost incredibly so. The
children had never seen any of their parents' people, as none of
them had been over to Queensland. They knew them only by name and
the oft-repeated tales of childhood, which were their favourite
stories of all Mr. and Mrs. Orban told.

This was their mother's unmarried sister, Dorothy Chase, who lived
with her father and mother in Herefordshire, in the "old home" the
children knew so well by hearsay, and longed so much to see. Some
one coming out from England was next best to going home, and the
news produced the wildest commotion of questions and suggestions.

"When will she come, mother? When can she be here?" came in chorus.

"Well, I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Orban said; "but it seems to
me she will not be very far behind this letter."

"Not more than a fortnight, I should think," said Mr. Orban. "You
see they are hurrying her off."

"O mummie, this is exciting!" Nesta exclaimed. "Do tell us how old
Aunt Dorothy is!"

"Just twenty-three. She was a little child when I last saw her, and
I can never picture her grown up."

"Twenty-three is a decent age for girls," said Eustace.

"Out of a vast and varied experience speaks Sir Eustace," laughed
Bob--and Eustace reddened.

"Twenty-three," said Mr. Orban. "Fancy little Dot twenty-three!
There'll be a big change in her."

"There must be a big change in every one, Jack," Mrs. Orban sighed.
"What wouldn't I give to see them all!"

"The next thing we shall hear," remarked Bob solemnly, "is that you
will be clearing out to England--the whole lot of you. I don't
think I like the idea of Miss Dorothy coming at all. She will
bewitch you, and off you will all go."

"No such luck," cried Nesta impulsively.

"Alas! an impossibility," said Mrs. Orban.

Mr