"The house is to be thoroughly repaired and renovated. Dear me, it will be like old times to see the place occupied once more. It always made me sad to see it looking so neglected and desolate." After a little further conversation, Dora and Tom arrived upon the scene. Their bright faces broke into smiles of welcome at the sight of the visitor, for she was a great favourite with all the children; even Gilbert generally laid a restraint upon his sharp tongue in her presence. But this afternoon Gilbert did not put in an appearance till tea was nearly over; he apologized for being so late, but promptly snubbed his brother for asking him where he had been all the afternoon. "You needn't be so nasty," Tom said, adding in the teazing way which was always particularly irritating to Gilbert's touchy temper, "I suppose you've been up to no good, or you wouldn't make a mystery." "I don't know what you mean," Gilbert retorted hotly. "I'm making no mystery." "What do you call it, then? Dora and I have been for a fine walk across country, over hedges and ditches, and have had a simply splendid time. We don't mind telling where we've been and what we've been doing. Isn't father coming up to tea, mother?" "No, my dear," Mrs. Mickle answered. "I believe he has a client with him; he told me after dinner that he would be particularly engaged this afternoon, so I have promised Miss Goodwin that you will see her home by-and-by." "So I will!" Tom cried gaily. "I'll take good care of you, Miss Goodwin." "I am sure you will, Tom," the little lady replied, her eyes dwelling admiringly on the boy's healthy, honest face. "What a blessing it is to be young and strong," she continued; "a little bird told me you were one of the best football players at the Grammar School." Tom flushed with pleasure, and laughed in a flattered, self-conscious manner, which made his brother look at him with a sneer. "Come and see me play in the next match, Miss Goodwin," the younger boy said eagerly, not noticing the expression on Gilbert's face. "But I was never at a football match in my life," she told him. "I am not certain that I should like to see a game played. It would make me nervous." "Yes, I expect it would," Mrs. Mickle agreed. Then, glancing at her elder son, she said, "You are eating nothing, Gilbert." "I am not hungry, mother." "I should have thought the keen air would have given you an appetite." "I have not been out of doors." "Not been out of doors!" Mrs. Mickle echoed in surprise. "Do you mean you have been in the house all the afternoon?" Gilbert nodded, and looked as though he would rather not be questioned further. Tom stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment, for being open concerning his own doings, he never could understand his brother's more reserved disposition.