sister's, and her thick brown hair fell far below her waist. She would
gladly have exchanged it for the lint-white locks of Hereward.

"Queenie was always chosen for a fairy at school plays," she grumbled,
"and they never would have me, though her dresses would have come in for
me so beautifully. I don't see why some fairies shouldn't have dark
hair! And it was just as bad when we acted _The Merchant of Venice_.
Miss Carter gave 'Portia' to Francie Hall, and made me take 'Jessica,'
and Francie was a perfect stick, and spoilt the whole thing! Next time,
I declare I'll bargain to wear a golden wig, and see what happens."

Ingred had been educated at Grovebury College since the morning when, a
fat little person of five, she had taken her place in the Kindergarten.
She and Quenrede had always been favorites in the school. In pre-war
days they had been allowed to give delightful parties at Rotherwood to
their form-mates, and though that had not been possible during the last
five years, everybody knew that their beautiful home had been lent to
the Red Cross, and admired their patriotism in thus giving it for the
service of the nation. From Avis's remarks that afternoon it was evident
that the girls at the college expected the Saxons to return immediately
to Rotherwood, and were looking forward to being invited to
entertainments there during the coming autumn and winter. Ingred had
contrived to parry her friend's interested questions, but she felt the
time had come when she must be prepared to give some definite answer to
those who inquired about their future plans. She managed to catch her
mother alone next morning for a quiet chat.

"Mumsie, dear," she began. "I've been wanting to ask you this--are we
going back to Rotherwood after the holidays?"

Mrs. Saxon folded up her sewing, put her thimble and scissors away in
her work-basket, and leaned her elbow on the arm of the garden seat as
if prepared for conversation.

"And I've been wanting to talk to you about this, Ingred. Shall you be
very disappointed when I tell you 'No'?"

"Oh, Muvvie!" Ingred's tone was agonized.

"It can't be helped, little woman! It can't indeed! I think you're old
enough now to understand if I explain. You know this war has hit a great
many people very hard. There has been a sort of general financial
see-saw; some have made large fortunes, but others have lost them. We
come in the latter list. When your father went out to France, he had to
le