ng, had been
owing to the tardily awakened sense of prudence and honour in the man to
whom she had run away in a fit of temper after a violent quarrel with--of
all people in the world--her brother Jack.

Rosamund now ardently desired to become an actress, and after much secret
discussion with his wife, her father had at last told her that if she
were of the same opinion when she reached the age of twenty-one he would
put no obstacle in her way.

As to Tom, the youngest of Janet Tosswill's step-children, he was "quite
all right." Though only fifteen months younger than Rosamund, whereas she
was as much of a woman as she ever would be, he was still a cheery,
commonplace schoolboy. He had been such a baby when Janet had married
that sometimes she almost felt as if he were her own child and that
though Tom's relation to her own son was peculiar. Theoretically the
two boys ought to have been pals, or at any rate good friends. But in
practice they were like oil and water--and found it impossible to mix.
When Tom was at home, as now, on his holidays, he spent most of his time
with a schoolfellow of his own age who lived about two miles from
Beechfield. In some ways Timmy was older now than Tom would ever be.

CHAPTER IV

Timmy went on into the dining-room to find his brothers and sisters all
gathered there excepting Dolly. But as he sat down, and as Betty began to
pour out tea, Dolly came in from the garden with the words:--"Guess who
I've met and had a talk with?"

She looked round her eagerly, but no one ventured an opinion. There were
so many, many people whom Dolly might have met and had a talk with, for
she was the most gregarious member of the Tosswill family.

At last Timmy spoke up:--"I expect you've seen Mrs. Crofton," he
observed, his mouth already full of bread and butter.

Dolly was taken aback. "How did you know?" she cried. "But it's quite
true--I _have_ seen Mrs. Crofton!"

"What is she like?" asked Jack indifferently.

"How old is she?" This from Betty, who somehow always seemed to ask the
essential question.

"D'you think she'll prove a 'stayer'?" questioned Tom.

He had hoped that someone with a family of boys and girls would have come
to The Trellis House. It was a beautiful little building--the oldest
dwelling-house in the village, in spite of its early Victorian name. But
no one ever stayed there very long. Some of the older village folk said
it was haunted.

"Did you speak to her, o