the money, greatly needed as it was,
counterbalanced the perpetual friction of her sister-in-law's presence.

"Father!"

"Yes, my son."

"Isn't it wrong to drink wine?"

Yes, my son."

"Then why does Auntie Hester drink it?"

Hester fixed her eyes intently on her brother. Would he uphold her
before the children?

"Because she thinks it does her good," said Mr. Gresley.

She withdrew her eyes. Her hand, holding a spoonful of cold rice
pudding, shook. A delicate color flooded her face, and finally settled
in the tip of her nose. In her own way she loved the children.

"Ach, mein Herr," almost screamed Fraeulein, who adored Hester, and saw
the gravity of the occasion, "aber Sie vergessen that the Herr Doctor
Br-r-r-r-r-own has so strong--so very strong command--"

"I cannot allow a discussion as to the merits or demerits of alcohol at
my table," said Mr. Gresley. "I hold one opinion, Dr. Brown holds
another. I must beg to be allowed to differ from him. Children, say
grace."

* * * * *

It was Wednesday and a half-holiday, and Mrs. Gresley had arranged to
take the children in the pony-carriage to be measured for new boots.
These expeditions to Westhope were a great event. At two o'clock exactly
the three children rushed down-stairs, Regie bearing in his hand his tin
money-box, in which a single coin could be heard to leap. Hester
produced a bright threepenny-piece for each child, one of which was
irretrievably buried in Regie's money-box, and the other two immediately
lost in the mat in the pony-carriage. However, Hester found them, and
slipped them inside their white gloves, and the expedition started,
accompanied by Boulou, a diminutive yellow-and-white dog of French
extraction. Boulou was a well-meaning, kind little soul. There was a
certain hurried arrogance about his hind-legs, but it was only manner.
He was not in reality more conceited than most small dogs who wear their
tails high.

Hester saw them drive off, and a few minutes later Mr. Gresley started
on his bicycle for a ruridecanal chapter meeting in the opposite
direction. She heard the Vicarage gate "clink" behind him as she crossed
the little hall, and then she suddenly stopped short and wrung her
hands. She had forgotten to tell either of them that the Bishop of
Southminster was going to call that afternoon. She knew he was coming on
purpose to see her, but this would have been incredible to the
Gresleys. She