promised them a sett after tea."

He rolled on to his feet with careless agility, his one arm encircling
his young niece's shoulders.

"I shouldn't worry if I were you," protested Olga. "It's much too hot.
Don't waste your energies amusing the children! They can quite well play
about by themselves."

"And get up to mischief," said Nick. "No, I'm on the job, overlooking
the whole crowd of you, and I'll do it thoroughly. When old Jim comes
home he'll find a model household awaiting him. By the way, I had a
letter from him this afternoon. The kiddie is stronger already, and
Muriel as happy as a queen. I shall hear from her to-morrow."

"Don't you wish you were with them?" questioned Olga. "It would be much
more fun than staying here to chaperone me."

Nick looked quizzical. "Oh, there's plenty of fun to be had out of that
too," he assured her. "I take a lively interest in you, my child; always
have."

"You're a darling," said Olga, raising her face impulsively. "I shall
write and tell Dad what care you are taking of us all."

She kissed him warmly and let him go, smiling at the tuneless humming
that accompanied his departure. Who at a casual glance would have taken
Nick Ratcliffe for one of the keenest politicians of his party, a man
whom friend and foe alike regarded as too brilliant to be ignored? He
had even been jestingly described as "that doughty champion of the