o be taken" and her adorably pretty little
face to be kissed. She was startlingly like her mother at the same age,
with bobbing curls of feathery gold, beseeching blue eyes and a
complexion delicately coloured as the pearly pink lining of certain
shells. She was, moreover, chubby, sturdy and robust--quite unlike Tony,
who looked nervous, bleached and delicate.

Tony went and leant against his mother, regarding Jan and his small
sister with dubious, questioning eyes.

Presently he remarked, "I wish she hadn't come."

"Oh, Tony," Fay exclaimed reproachfully, "you must both love Auntie Jan
very dearly. She has come such a long way to be good to us all."

"I wish she hadn't," Tony persisted.

"_I_ sall love Auntie Dzan," Fay remarked, virtuously.

It was pleasant to be cuddled by this friendly baby, and Jan laid her
cheek against the fluffy golden head; but all the time she was watching
Tony. He reminded her of someone, and she couldn't think who. He
maintained his aloof and unfriendly attitude till Ayah came to take the
children to their second breakfast. Little Fay, however, refused to
budge, and when the meekly salaaming ayah attempted to take her, made
her strong little body stiff, and screamed vigorously, clinging so
firmly to her aunt that Jan had herself to carry the obstreperous baby
to the nursery, where she left her lying on the floor, still yelling
with all the strength of her evidently healthy lungs.

When Jan returned, rather dishevelled--for her niece had seized a
handful of her hair in the final struggle not to be put down--Fay said
almost complacently, "You see, the dear little soul took a fancy to you
at once. Tony is much more reserved and not nearly so friendly. He's
very Scotch, is Tony."

"He does what he's told, anyway."

"Oh, not always," Fay said reassuringly, "only when he doesn't mind
doing it. They've both got very strong wills."

"So have I," said Jan.

Fay sighed. "It was time you came to keep them in order. I can't."

This was evident, for Fay had not attempted to interfere with her
daughter beyond saying, "I expect she's hungry, that's why she's so
fretty, poor dear."

That afternoon Peter went to the flat and was shown as usual into the
sitting-room.

Jan and the children were in the verandah, all with their backs to the
room, and did not notice his entrance as Jan was singing nursery-rhymes.
Fay sat on her knee, cuddled close as though there were no such thing as
tempers in