"Mother had a letter yesterday by the afternoon post. It was from Uncle
David, and he's actually on his way home to England. He's not going back
to India at all; he wants to settle down near Latchworth. He'll get here
before Easter, and he's coming straight to stay with us. Isn't it
lovely?"

"Are you fond of him?" enquired Dorothy.

"Oh, he's just ripping! He's so jolly, you know, always having jokes and
fun with me. He's the only uncle I possess, so of course I make the most
of him; but he's as good as a dozen."

"And I don't possess even one," thought Dorothy. "Have you any cousins?"
she added aloud.

"Only seconds and thirds once removed. They're so distant, I can
scarcely count them as relations. My one first cousin died when she was
a baby, and Aunt Madeleine died too--out in India--so poor Uncle David
has been alone ever since. But he's always fearfully busy; he goes about
superintending railways and building bridges. He has a whole army of
coolies under him sometimes, and they have to take the lines through
jungles where there are tigers, and snakes, and things. He writes us the
most tremendously interesting letters. Oh, I'm just longing to hear all
his stories! When I can get him in the right mood and he starts, he
yarns on for hours, and it's so fascinating, I never want him to stop."

"So he is to stay at your house?"

"Rather! We'd be fearfully cross with him if he didn't. He's coming to
us first, and then he and Mother and I are all going away somewhere for
the Easter holidays. It will be such fun! I wish the time would fly
quicker."

"It's only a fortnight to the end of the term now," said Dorothy.

"I know, but a fortnight is fourteen days, my dear. Mother says Uncle
David will probably arrive at the end of next week, though; she thinks
he may come overland from Marseilles. She wants to arrange to go away on
the Wednesday before Easter at latest. I don't expect I shall come to
school for the last day--perhaps not in the last week at all. Mother
can't bear travelling when the trains are crowded, so we may start on
the Monday or Tuesday."

"What place are you going to?"

"I don't know. We're leaving that for Uncle David to decide."

It must be delightful, thought Dorothy, to have the anticipation of such
a pleasant holiday. Alison was much to be envied, not only for the
possession of so desirable an uncle, but because he seemed disposed to
spend his time in the company of his niece, and to ent