glad hosannas, Prince of peace,
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And Heaven's eternal arches ring
With Thy beloved Name.
And Heaven's eternal arches ring
With Thy beloved Name."

Piers threw up his head with a sudden, spasmodic movement as of a
drowning man. And then without pause he snatched up the blind and flung
the window wide.

"Hi, you kiddies! Where are you? Don't run away! Gracie, is that you?"

There was a brief silence, then chirpily came the answer. "Pat did the
solo; but he's gone. He would have gone sooner--when we saw your shadow
on the blind--only I held him so that he couldn't."

Piers broke into a laugh. "Well, come in now you are here! You're not
afraid anyhow, what?"

"Oh no!" laughed Gracie. "I'm not a bit afraid. But I'm supposed to be in
bed; and if Father finds out I'm not--" She paused with her customary
sense of the dramatic.

"Well?" laughed Piers. "What'll happen then?"

"I shall cop it," said Gracie elegantly.

Nevertheless she came to him, and stood on the grass outside the window.
The lamplight from within shone on her upturned face with its saucy,
confiding smile. Her head was uncovered and gleamed golden in the
radiance. She was wearing a very ancient fur cloak belonging to her
mother, and she glowed like a rose in the sombre drapery.

Piers stooped to her with hands invitingly outstretched. "Come along,
Pixie! We shan't eat you, and I'll take you home on my shoulder
afterwards and see you don't get copped."

She uttered a delighted little laugh, and went upwards into his hold like
a scrap of floating thistledown.

He lifted her high in his arms, crossed the room with her, and set her
down before the old man who still sat at the table, sardonically
watching. "Miss Gracie Lorimer!" he said.

"Hullo, child!" growled Sir Beverley.

Gracie looked at him with sparkling, adventurous eyes. As she had told
Piers, she was not a bit afraid. After the briefest pause she held out
her hand with charming _insouciance_.

"How do you do?" she said.

Sir Beverley slowly took the hand, and pulled her towards him, gazing at
her from under his black brows with a piercing scrutiny that would have
terrified a more timid child.

Timidity however was not one of Gracie's weaknesses. She gave him a
friendly smile, and waited without the smallest sign of uneasiness for
him to speak.

"What have you come here for?" he demanded gruffly at length.

"I'll tell you," said Gracie readily. She went cl