Then we must make haste and finish the room before she comes. Mollie,
I can do nothing with those pictures; we will put them up against the
wall until your brother can hang them. Let me see; that corner behind
the writing-table--no one can see them there. Quick! hand me another. Is
this a portrait of your father?' stopping to regard a half-length figure
of a fine-looking man in naval uniform.

'No, that is only an uncle of mamma's; I forget his name. Do you
remember it, Kester? Papa was a merchant--at least, I think so.'

'Has he been long dead?'

'Oh yes; he died abroad when Kester and I were quite little; that is why
we are so poor. Mamma has often told us that it is her money we are
living on. I don't know how she managed to send Cyril to Oxford; but we
had no house all that time, only poky little lodgings. Are we going to
arrange the furniture now, Miss Ross? Oh, how comfortable the room
begins to look, and how delighted Cyril will be when he comes home this
afternoon! He says that Dr. Ross wants him after school, so he will not
run home before dinner. How glad I am that Cyril will always have a nice
dinner now! He does so hate Biddy's cooking; he declares everything
tastes alike. You say so, too, don't you, Kester?'

Kester's answer was a shrug of the shoulders; he seemed more reserved
than Mollie, who was chattering to her new friend with all the frankness
and thoughtlessness of a very young girl.

'Mamma never minds what sort of dinner Biddy sends up, if only Cyril
does not find fault. I think she would live on tea and dry bread all the
year round if only Cyril could have nice things.'

Cyril--always Cyril! Audrey turned the subject by asking Mollie if she
would like the couch in the window. Mollie clapped her hands delightedly
at the effect.

'It looks beautiful; don't you think so, Kester? And how funny! Miss
Ross has put your own particular little table beside it, just as though
she guessed that it was to hold your desk and your books. There is
Kester's little box of books, but he will unpack them himself by and
by.'

'Mollie, have you ordered the dinner?' interrupted Kester a little
anxiously--and poor Mollie's face fell.

'Oh dear, I am so sorry, but I have forgotten all about it; the butcher
has not called, and there are only those potatoes and bread and cheese.
Mamma is right when she says my head is like a sieve.'

'Why don't you send Biddy for some chops, my dear?' remarked Audrey very
sensib