"Oh, father, none at all. I've behaved beautifully--just like a real, grown-up lady! In the morning I pursued my avocations, and in the afternoon I went out calling, with light kid gloves and a card-case. Every one was out but old Mrs Reed, and you would have loved it if you could have heard us talk! We discussed the weather in all its branches. Cold--dampy-cold--dry cold; warm--close-warm--breezy warm; hot, thundery hot, scorching. She told me which of each she liked best, and which her poor dear mother had liked best; and I lingered on and on, hoping they would bring in tea, until at last I yawned so much that I was obliged to come away unfed. Then I had cold tea and scraps in the schoolroom, and we discussed charitable agencies." "Oh, Nan, Nan, this will never do! You are getting altogether too civilised. I shall have no playmate left at this rate," cried her father, laughing. "Can't you be satisfied with two grown-up daughters, mother, and leave Mops to me for a few years longer?" Mrs Rendell tried to look shocked, a task which she found somewhat difficult when her husband was the offender; but if her eyes betrayed her, the elevated brows and pursed-up lips made a valiant show of disapproval. "At eighteen? She is past eighteen, remember. You don't expect a girl of eighteen to run about in short skirts, with her hair down her back?" "She would look much nicer!" sighed Mr Rendell, looking regretfully first at the long white skirt, and then at the coiled-up tresses. "They grow up so quickly, Edith; I live in terror of having no children left-- nothing but fashionable young ladies. One must give in to custom to a certain extent, I suppose, but I warn you frankly that Chrissie shall be the exception. It would break my heart to see Chrissie properly grown up. Chrissie shall always wear her hair down her back!" Christabel screwed up her eyes at him across the fireplace with a smile of indulgent affection. He was so young, this dear old father! so ridiculously young, that his vagaries could not be treated with the severity they deserved. It was truest wisdom to take no notice, and lead the conversation to wiser topics. "Any news in the great world to-day, father?" she inquired airily. "Any nice little bits of gossip to tell us? We look forward to hearing your news, you know, as part of the day's excitement." "My news, indeed! Gossip, she calls it. If you had to provide for half a dozen daughters, Miss Christabel, you wouldn't find much time to spend in `gossip.' I go to town to work, and leave it to you at home to run round collecting the news of the neighbourhood. I know nothing. I hear nothing. Men don't trouble themselves with gossip." Seven long-drawn gasps of incredulity greeted this utterance; seven pairs of eyes rolled involuntarily to the ceiling; seven heads wagged in accusation.