re absent. Jill joins in love.

"Your affectionate `Tom.'

"_P.S_.--Auntie Eva is not nearly so down on her luck now that Roger's
taken his turn. If he's well enough she's going to have a little kick-
up on his birthday, which will be rare larks."

"A letter!" inquired Ratman, who had watched the not altogether
delighted expression on his friend's face as he read it. "Good news?
May I read it?"

"If you like," said the captain, tossing it across the table.

Ratman, who evidently had a better appreciation of juvenile vagaries
than the father, read it with an amused smile on his face.

"Nice boy that," said he; "he and I will be friends."

"Remember," said the captain, "our bargain. Do and say what you like
with me, but before my children--"

"Don't be afraid, Teddy, my boy. Depend on me for doing the high moral
business. The innocent babes shall never guess that you owe me three
years' pay, and that I could walk you off to the next police station for
a sharper. It's amusing when you come to think of it, isn't it? But, I
say, it looks as if you'll have to trouble mamma after all. The boy's
getting well in spite of his nurses. I'm really impatient to see the
happy family. When shall we go?"

"Next week. We must be decent, and wait till he's better now."

"Oh, all right. If we can't go to the funeral we'll go to the birthday
party, eh? It's all one to me, Teddy, as long as you don't make a fool
of me in the long run."

"You wait, and it'll be all right," said the captain, with a trace in
his voice of something like desperation.

At the end of the following week these two nice gentlemen presented
themselves at Maxfield. Captain Oliphant had written for the brougham
to meet them, and as Tom and Jill were in it, Mr Ratman was spared the
embarrassment of meeting the whole household at one time. Before the
house was reached he had impressed Tom with the conviction that there
was a considerable possibility of "larks" in his father's visitor. But
Jill, who had acquired the habit of contrasting every gentleman she saw
with her dear Mr Armstrong, was obdurate to his fascinations.

"I don't want to talk to you," said she shortly, when for the twentieth
time he renewed his friendly overtures. "I don't like you, and hope
you're not going to stay long."

Ratman took his rebuff as complacently as he could; and Jill, having
exhausted her conversation with this outburst, put her hand
apologetically into h