as-tree for the children of tenants,
and turned up in a body to occupy the front seats at the annual New
Year's concert in the village. When the usual festivities were finished,
however, time hung a little heavy on their hands, and one particular
morning found them lounging about the breakfast-room in the especially
aggravating situation of not quite knowing what to do with themselves.

"It's too bad we can't have the horses to-day!" groused Dulcie. "I'd set
my heart on a ride, and I can't get on with my fancy work till I can go
to Balderton for some more silks."

"And I want some wool," proclaimed Lilias, stopping from a rather
unnecessary onslaught of poking at the fire. "There's never anything
fit to buy at this wretched little shop in the village!"

"Except bacon and kippers!" grinned Roland.

"I can't knit with kippers!"

"Fact is, we're all bored stiff!" drawled Everard from the sofa,
flinging away the book he was reading, and stretching his arms in the
luxury of a long-drawn yawn. "What should you say to a turn in the car?
Wouldn't it be rather sport, don't you think?"

"If Grandfather would spare Milner to take us!" said Lilias doubtfully.

"We don't want Milner. _I'll_ drive you! I can manage a car as well as
he can, any day. Don't get excited, you kids! _No_, Bevis, I shall
certainly _not_ allow you to try to drive! There's only going to be one
man at that job, and that's myself!"

"Shall we go and ask Grandfather?" suggested Dulcie.

"Right you are! No, not the whole of us," (as there was a general family
move). "Three's enough!"

So a deputation, consisting of Everard, Lilias, and Dulcie, promptly
presented themselves at the study door and tapped for admission. As
there was no reply to a second rap, they opened the door and walked into
the room. Grandfather was rather deaf, and sometimes, when he had
ignored a summons, he would say: "Well, why didn't you come in?" He was
generally to be found writing letters at this hour in the morning, but
to-day the revolving chair was empty. He had apparently begun his usual
correspondence, for his desk was littered with papers. Leaning up
against the ink-pot there was a photograph. The young people, who had
walked across the room towards the window, could not fail to notice it,
for it was tilted in such a prominent place that it at once attracted
their attention. It represented a very pretty dark-eyed young lady,
holding a baby on her lap, with a slight backgr