On Sunday morning their father always took them to church. In the afternoon he would smoke in his little study; and they were allowed to be with him, and have their tea there as a treat. Occasionally Mr.

Allonby would try to give them a Bible lesson; very often they would tell him a Bible story.

'I want to bring you up as your mother would have done,' he said to True one day.

'We'll bring ourselves along, dad,' she responded cheerfully; 'we're trying hard to be good, and we pray to G.o.d to manage us when we can't remember in time.'

'Father,' said Bobby one Sunday afternoon, 'do you fink I could ever save your life?'

'I don't know, I'm sure, sonny. What makes you ask?'

'In my reading lesson yesterday--it was about the mouse who saved a lion--it was very difficult to think how he could; but he reely did it, didn't he?'

'Yes, and I suppose you think it applies to you. Well, now, let us think. I must be put in prison somewhere, and you must come and let me out.'

'But you'd have to be wicked to be put in prison,' objected True. 'You couldn't be wicked, dad.'

'I hope I couldn't, but I don't know. I think I would rather not get into such a sc.r.a.pe, Bobby.'

'I should like to do somefing for you,' said Bobby with wistful eyes.

'Why?' asked his father.

Bobby coloured up. If he had followed his natural instinct he would have flung himself into his father's arms and exclaimed, 'Because I love you so.'

But Mr. Allonby was not a demonstrative father, and Bobby was learning to control and hide his feelings.

'Well, I promise you, sonny, to call upon you when I do get into trouble,' said Mr. Allonby, with a twinkle in his eye.

And Bobby hugged this promise to his heart and waited in content.

One afternoon True and he were looking out of the sitting-room window very disconsolately. It was raining fast, and Mr. Allonby had that day gone away to see a friend in the country. He was not coming back for two or three days. Margot was in one of her cross moods. She had taken the opportunity to have a thorough clean and turn out of the two bedrooms, and had forbidden the children to leave the sitting-room for the whole afternoon.

'It's like a prison,' said True rebelliously. 'I hate being shut up in one room. Mother never did. I could run in and out all day long. I hate this old London. I should like to be in the country. I'll run away one day if Margot keeps shutting me up.'

'Where will you go?' asked Bobby, with interest.

'I'll go to the railway station and get into a railway train and stay in it till it gets quite to the end of the journey, and then I'd get out.'

'And where would that be?'

True considered.

'The very end of England, I s'pose--near the sea.'

'I've never seen the sea,' said Bobby.

'Fancy! Why we came right through it all the way from 'Merica. I'll ask dad to take us to the seash.o.r.e one day. He loves a day out, and so do I. I wish he had his motor.'

'Yes,' sighed Bobby, 'we never does nothing nice now, and if it hadn't been for this horrid old rain we'd have gone to tea with Miss Robsart.'

'Well, p'raps she'll ask us to-morrow. Look at that funny old woman, Bobby, she's trying to hold up her umbrella and drag her dog with a string and hold up her dress with the same hand. There! Now look, the dog has got between her legs! Oh, there she goes! Oh, look! she's tumbled right over, and there's a gentleman picking her up!'

Bobby pressed his face against the gla.s.s to see the catastrophe. Then he started.

'It--it strikes me that's Master Mortimer.'

'Oh, where? Isn't he your uncle?'

'Yes, it's him! It's him! Oh, True, let's run out and bring him in!'

'Is it the gentleman who picked the old lady up? He's looking across at this house now. He's coming, Bobby, he's coming to see us!'

Bobby rushed to the hall door. He was so excited that he hardly knew if he was on his head or heels, and he literally tumbled down off the doorsteps into his uncle's arms.

'Well, well! This is a welcome! Hold on little man, you'll have me over if you don't take care. Let's come inside and do the affectionate, or we shall be collecting a crowd. Why, who is this?'

'She's True, she's a kind of sister,' explained Bobby, pulling his uncle breathlessly into the sitting-room and shutting the door. 'Oh, we do want you to sit down and talk to us; me and n.o.bbles is 'normously glad to see you!'

'Ah! where is that young gentleman? I see he looks gayer than ever.

Now give an account of yourself and this wonderful father of yours.'

Mr. Mortimer Egerton was taking off his great-coat as he spoke. He stepped out into the narrow hall and hung it up deliberately on the hall pegs there; then he returned to the sitting-room and sat down in the one easy-chair that it possessed, and pulled Bobby in between his knees.

'Let us see what freedom and fatherly care has done for you,' he said.

'Now, then, tell your story. Did your father come to you in the good old style? Is he here now?'

Bobby began to tell his tale very rapidly and eagerly, with shining eyes and burning cheeks. Occasionally True corrected or added to his statements.

Mr. Egerton listened with laughter in his eyes; gravity settled there when he heard of Mrs. Allonby's death; but when he heard of the find of the governess he was enchanted.

'And now,' he said, 'would you like to hear my news? Do you remember Lady Isobel, Bobby?'

'Of course I do. She sended me a beautiful picsher of the gates.

She's coming home from India very soon.'

'Very soon, indeed! She arrived yesterday.'

'Oh, Master Mortimer!'

Bobby's rapt tone made his uncle laugh.

'Why does Bobby always call you Master Mortimer? Aren't you his uncle?' enquired True.

'It's a way he has. We understand each other. Well, I'll go on with my news. Lady Isobel thinks it would be very nice to live in the old house, Bobby, where we saw each other first, so we've arranged to live there together.'

'In grandmother's house?' questioned Bobby, with perplexed eyes. 'I don't fink it's a nice house enough for Lady Is'bel.'

'Oh, we'll make it nice; we'll have boys and girls to stay with us to play hide-and-seek with. We'll chase each other round every room.'