sses!"

"And I can ride. A pony, Daddy!" Geoffrey's voice was quivering with
pride. He stood by the couch, an erect little figure.

"Why, he's grown--ever so much!" said Major Hunt. "They've all grown;
you too, my little fat Michael. I left white-faced babies in that
beastly flat. And you too----" She bent over him. "Your dear eyes
have forgotten the old War!" he said, very low.

There was a heavy knock at the door. Entered Eva, resplendent in a
butterfly cap and an apron so stiffly starched that it stood away
resentfully from her figure. By no stretch of imagination could Eva
ever have been called shy; but she had a certain amount of awe for her
master, and found speech in his presence a little difficult. But on
this occasion it was evident that she felt that something was demanded
of her. She put her burden of buttered toast on a trivet in the
fender, and said breathlessly:

"'Ope I see yer well, sir. And _ain't_ this a nice s'prise!"

"Thank you, Eva--yes," said Major Hunt.

Whereat, the handmaiden withdrew, her heavy tread retreating to the
kitchen to the accompaniment of song.

"Ow--Ow--_Ow_, it's a lovely War!"

"I didn't know her for a moment," Major Hunt said, laughing. "You
see, she never had less than six smuts on her face in Bloomsbury.
She's transformed, like all of you in this wonderful dream."

"Tea isn't a dream," said his wife. She made it in the silver
tea-pot, and they all fluttered about him, persuading him to eat: and
made his tea a matter of some difficulty, since all three children
insisted on getting as close to him as possible, and he had but one
good hand. He did not mind. Once, as his wife brought him a refilled
cup, she saw him lean his face down until it rested for a moment on
the gold rings of Michael's hair.

It was with some anxiety that Norah and her father went to call on
their guest next morning.

"What will we do if he's stiff-necked and proud, Dad?" Norah asked.
"I simply couldn't part with those babies now!"

"Let's hope he won't be," said her father. "But if the worst comes to
worst, we could let him pay us a little rent for the place--we could
give the money to the Red Cross, of course."

"'M!" said Norah, wrinkling her nose expressively. "That would be
horrid--it would spoil all the idea of the place."

But they found Major Hunt surprisingly meek.

"I daresay that if you had propounded the idea to me at first I should
have said 'No' flatly,"