croached
upon, provided that they observed the rules of the house.

The Reverend Jeremy Fullarton was Royalist to the marrow, and only
Royalists entrusted their sons to his keeping; hence the house was a
home of Cavalier sentiment. The older boys had even constituted
themselves into a little corps, and all games had given way before the
joys of drilling and military tactics. Here again Philip led, although
his sworn allies, Hugh Lorimer and Vernon Hutchinson (a nephew of the
great Colonel Hutchinson, whose memoirs were written by his wife Lucy)
and Rupert Ommaney, shared the command. Not often do you find a bond
uniting as many as four schoolboys in devoted friendship, but such was
the case with this gallant quartet, Philip and Hugh, Rupert and Vernon.

"IS IT INTERESTING?" THE LITTLE OLD LADY ASKED EARNESTLY.

"VERY," SAID JANET.

"I LIKE BARBARA," SAID HESTER.

"I LIKE PHILIP," SAID GREGORY.

GODFREY FAIRFAX WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN AGAIN, WHEN HORACE INTERRUPTED.

"EXCUSE ME," HE SAID. "BUT I'VE BEEN THINKING. DIDN'T YOU WRITE 'FOR
THE GOOD CAUSE'?"

"YES," SHE SAID.

"WHY," SAID HORACE, "THAT'S MY FAVOURITE BOOK. YOU REMEMBER THAT, JACK?
THE WARS OF THE ROSES AND THE YORKIST FAMILY? YOU MUST REMEMBER WHERE
THE SPY--GILES FEATHERHEAD--IS CAUGHT IN THE BUTTERY, AND HOW THEY DUCK
HIM?"

"OF COURSE I DO," SAID JACK. "IT'S PERFECTLY RIPPING."

GODFREY FAIRFAX WAS SO PLEASED TO HEAR THIS THAT HER VOICE FOR A MOMENT
OR TWO WAS QUITE HUSKY. THEN SHE RESUMED.

In the evening Matthew Hale appeared bearing a basket of tools, and
insisted upon testing all locks and bolts, and Barbara and he explored
the house together, making all safe with the exception of a window in
the library. This room was on the ground-floor, easily accessible, and,
try as he would, there was one window which the blacksmith could not
secure. The good fellow was for sleeping on the floor all night by way
of guard, but Barbara would not hear of it, and, in the end, Bevis, the
mastiff, the great dog that had followed Colonel Myddelton into camp in
the late war, was chained outside the window. Satisfied with this
arrangement, Matthew pulled his forelock and said good night, and
Barbara prepared for bed.

Folks kept better hours in those days than we now do. First she peeped
in at the sleeping children. Then she talked long and earnestly with
the cook concerning the morrow's programme, and at nine o'clock she
climbed to her room.

Barbara, how