"If it is," Sidney said quietly, "father and I mean to go and leave them in possession." "My dear girl, what do you mean?" "It is something we have discovered lately—the house is legally my uncle's. I cannot go into details. We have lived together many years without any necessity for making this known; in fact, we were not aware of it ourselves till lately." "But I happen to remember and to know more than you do, Sidney," said Mrs. de Cressiers gravely. "I remember when your grandfather died, and when your uncle was 'sowing his wild oats,' as people say. He sent word he did not want to take the house and would not settle down, and then sold it to your father." "I did not know you remembered it all," faltered Sidney. "Well, there was no legal transaction between them, it seems, and—" "But your uncle is an honourable man." "Oh, yes—yes; but please don't talk of the past or refer to it. Mrs. Urquhart does not see it as we do; she worries him till he begins to look at things in a different light; and we have decided that we had better go—at least, I think we shall do so. Nothing is absolutely settled yet." Mrs. de Cressiers looked almost dazed. "I shall begin to think as hardly of her as Jockie does. That girl is a strange mixture. Do you know she has been coming up and playing draughts with my poor husband, and chatting away to him so entertainingly that he quite enjoys her visits. But, my dear Sidney, you and your father must not leave this neighbourhood. You really must not. Why, it will break your father's heart. He is bound up with that house and those old guns. I shall have to go down and have a talk with your uncle, I think." The colour mounted in Sidney's cheeks. She raised her head proudly. "I hope you will do nothing of the sort. If we go, it will be because we prefer to do it. There is no question of expulsion." Mrs. de Cressiers smiled, and patted Sidney on the shoulder. "I always like to see your de Cressiers blood come to the fore. Go to London, my dear, and things will be different when you return." So Sidney and her father departed, having the sanction of their dearest friends; and Mrs. Ted Urquhart watched them go with a triumphant heart, for she meant to reign supreme, and she knew that this step would further her resolve. CHAPTER XV THE GUNS A FORTNIGHT in town soon slipped away; and then the fortnight lengthened into a month. The Admiral and his daughter found many old friends, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They stayed at a quiet private hotel, and took life more easily than did most of those around them. Sidney saw a great deal of Gavine, who spent all the time she could spare away from her work with them. She did not talk much of her mother; it had never been her way to do so; but one day, when she was wishing Sidney good-night, she clung to her for a minute and whispered: