there in February; he and I had ever such a time one day when the
others were out hunting. Mamma won't let me hunt; isn't it too bad
of her? He didn't speak a single serious word all the morning, and
just think how dry he used to be! Of course he can be dry enough
still when he gets with people like Mrs. Adams and Clara Carr, but I
hope to break him of the habit entirely.'

She glanced at Annabel, and laughed merrily before raising her cup
to her lips. Mr. Newthorpe just cast a rapid eye over his daughter's
face; Annabel wore a look of quiet amusement.

'Has he been here since then?' Paula inquired, tapping a second egg.
'We lost sight of him for two or three months, and of course he
always makes a mystery of his wanderings.'

'We saw him last in October,' her uncle answered, 'when he had just
returned from America.'

'He said he was going to Australia next. By-the-by, what's his
address? Something, Russell Street. Don't you know?'

'No idea,' he replied, smiling.

'Never mind. I'll send the letter to Mrs. Ormonde; she always knows
where he is, and I believe she's the only one that does.'

When the meal came to an end Mr. Newthorpe went, as usual, to his
study. Miss Tyrrell, also as usual, prepared for three hours of
letter-writing. Annabel, after a brief Consultation with Mrs.
Martin, the housekeeper, would ordinarily have sat down to study in