have had a rest," she
said assuringly. "This is the pater's den, and his private property
after four o'clock, so you will be quite undisturbed. Just tell me what
will refresh you most--tea, coffee, wine? I can bring what you like
quite quietly."

"Tea, please--tea, and ten minutes' rest. I shall be better then," Mr
Farrell said wearily.

Mollie left the room to prepare a dainty little tray in the pantry, and
beg a private pot of tea from the kitchen. The idea of waiting in
secret upon Uncle Bernard was delightfully exciting; it was almost as
good as running the blockade, to creep past the dining-room door where
her mother and sisters were assembled, and listen to the murmur of
voices from within.

If they knew--oh, if they knew! She had prepared some crisp slices of
toast, skimmed the cream off the milk in defiance of cook's protests,
and made sure that the water in the little covered jug was boiling, and
not only moderately warm, as the custom was. It was the simplest of
meals, but at least everything was as tempting as hands could make it,
and Mollie had the satisfaction of pouring out two cups of tea, and
seeing the last slice of toast disappear from the rack. She took
nothing herself, and preserved a discreet silence until Mr Farrell
replaced cup and plate on the table, and condescended to smile approval.

"Thank you, Miss Mollie; I am obliged to you for securing me this rest.
Judging from my first impressions of your character, I should not have
expected so much common-sense. I feel quite refreshed, and ready to see
your mother when it is convenient."

Mollie lifted the tray, and stood for a moment looking down with an air
of triumph.

"I'm so glad! I talk a lot of nonsense, but I can be quite sensible if
I like, and I _did_ want to help you, Uncle Bernard; I'll send mother in
here, where you can have your talk in peace. It's the only chance of
being uninterrupted."

Mr Farrell made no reply, and Mollie made haste to deposit the tray in
the pantry, and rush for the dining-room door. The secret had been kept
so long that she felt sore--absolutely sore with the strain. It seemed
incredible that her mother and sisters should be sitting munching bread-
and-butter as calmly as if it were an ordinary day, when nothing
extraordinary had happened to break the monotonous routine. She leant
against the lintel of the door and called her mother by name--"Muv! you
are wanted at once in the Den. Somebody