"I'm coming up as a flower!" Wally replied modestly. "A Christmas lily,
I should think!"--whereat Jim murmured something that sounded "More like
an artichoke!" His exact remark, however, was lost, for at that moment
they arrived at the hotel, just as Mr. Linton emerged from it, and Jim
quickened his pace, his face alight.

"Dad!"

"Well, my boy!" They gripped hands, and David Linton's eye kindled as
it dwelt on the big fellow. "Glad to have you back, old son.
Why--Wally!"

"Turned up like a bad penny, sir," said Wally, having his hand pumped
in turn. "Hope you'll forgive me--it's pretty cool to arrive without an
invitation."

"As far as I know, you had invitations from all the family," said Mr.
Linton, laughing. "We regard you as one of the oldest inhabitants now,
you know. At any rate, I'm delighted to see you; the mistress of
Billabong must answer for herself, but she doesn't look cast down!"

"She's been fairly polite," Wally said. "On the whole I don't feel as
shy as I was afraid of feeling! I was horribly scared of having
Christmas with my aunt--but she's chosen measles instead, so I expect
she was just as scared as I was!"

"It's probable," said his host, laughing.

"You haven't grown up a bit, Wally, and it's such a comfort!" Norah