ar more interested
in the proper perspective of his background than in his daughter's
future prospects. He agreed abstractedly with anything that was
suggested.

"If they'll give her a free training, let her go by all means--don't you
think that pearly grey throws the cliff into relief?--I've no doubt Miss
Kingsley's right--I think that gorse-bush is an improvement--yes, she's
getting a big girl, I suppose--I had made the cliff darker, but I like
the sun on it--the children grow up so fast--I'm glad you like that
shade of brown under the rock, because I consider it brings out the
whole picture."

Young, pretty Mrs. Castleton, on being appealed to, burst into tragic
tears.

"I'm sure _I_ don't want to stand in the girl's light," she sobbed. "If
it's the right thing for her to leave home, I suppose she must; but
nobody need say _I've_ turned her out. I shouldn't have thought it would
be any more fun teaching kindergarten than helping to look after her own
brothers and sisters! However, that's a matter of opinion, and I've
always tried to do my best by my husband's children, but it's small
thanks one gets for it all."

The examination for the scholarship was to be held in London, and
candidates were required to fill up beforehand certain papers of
application and forward them to the College. The forms arrived on the
very last day of term. Miss Janet summoned Claudia to the study and gave
them to her.

"They must be signed by your father," she explained, "and you must post
them not later than the sixth. The envelope is already addressed, and my
sister and I have filled in our part of the application. All you have to
do is to get Mr. Castleton's signature. When Miss Halden receives these
papers, she will send you a card of admission for the examination. That
will not be for three weeks, so I shall see you again before you have to
go up to London. Be sure to go on with your work during the holidays,
and give special attention to Latin grammar."

"Yes, Miss Janet," said Claudia dutifully, taking the large envelope and
slipping it into her coat pocket.

"Post it to-morrow," urged Miss Janet, as she dismissed her pupil from
the study.

The advent of Easter saw Rosemary again at Porthkeverne. She not only
returned for the holidays, but "came back for good". The secret which
had haunted and puzzled Lorraine since Christmas was out at last.
Rosemary had written home and told the plain, unvarnished, brutal truth.

"Sign