you can get just as well, or better, out there. Most fellows who go out
take tons of unnecessary stuff. Come into the smoking-room and give me a
few more details."

They came out upon the steps of the club a little later. Bob's head was
whirling. He tried to stammer out more thanks and was cut short, kindly
but decisively.

"That's all right, my boy. I'll send you letters of introduction to
various people who will help you, and a bit of advice about where to go
when you land. Tell your sister not to be nervous--she isn't going to a
wild country, and the people there are much the same as anywhere else.
Now, good-bye, and good luck"; and Bob found himself walking across the
Square in a kind of solemn amazement.

"This morning I was thinking of getting taken on as a farm hand in
Devonshire, with Tommy somewhere handy in a labourer's cottage," he
pondered. "And now I'm a bloated capitalist, and Tommy and I are going
across the world to Australia as calmly as if we were off to Margate
for the day! Well, I suppose it's only a dream, and I'll wake up soon.
I guess I'd better go back and tell Mr. M'Clinton; and I've got to see
Tommy somehow." He bent his brows over the problem as he turned towards
Lincoln's Inn.

CHAPTER VI

SAILING ORDERS

"Are you there, miss?"

The sepulchral whisper came faintly to Cecilia's ears as she sat in her
little room, sewing a frock of Queenie's. The children were out in the
garden at the back of the house. Mrs. Rainham was practising in the
drawing-room. The sound of a high trill floated upwards as she opened
the door.

"What is it, Eliza?"

"It's a letter, miss. A kid brought it to the kitchen door--a bit of a
boy. Arsked for me as if 'e'd known me all 'is life--called me Elizer!
'E's waitin' for an answer. I'll wait in me room, miss, till you calls
me." The little Cockney girl slipped away, revelling in furthering any
scheme to defeat Mrs. Rainham and help Cecilia.

Cecilia opened the letter hurriedly. It contained only one line.

"Can you come at once to Lincoln's Inn? Important.--BOB."

Cecilia knitted her brows. It was nearly a month since the memorable
evening when she and Bob had revolted; and though she was still made
to feel herself in disgrace, and she knew her letters were watched, the
close spying upon her movements had somewhat relaxed. It had been
too uncomfortable for Mrs. Rainham to keep it up, since it made heavy
demands upon her own time, and interfered wit