"Come and sit down. I have never told you, for there seemed no need; but when my father died, he left this house and property to Ted. He gave me extra money in lieu of it. He fancied that as a seafaring man I would never settle down. You know your uncle and I are twins, but he is my senior by a few minutes. Well, at the time of my father's death, Ted was abroad, and much in need of money. He wrote to me saying that he did not care for this part of the world, and that he would never elect to live here. If I liked to have the house, and send him some of the extra money that had been left me, we would be quits. I agreed, sent him a big cheque in a very unbusinesslike fashion, and took up my abode here. "Then he got wounded and left the Army. He travelled abroad for a short time, but drifted back here and settled down. We mutually agreed to live together, but I was to run the house, and he to pay me so much yearly towards the household expenses. There has never been a hitch till the other night. He came back late from the Cottage. You had gone to bed. He told me he much regretted giving over this house to me, and added, 'Of course, it is still legally mine.' I asked him why he should talk so, and he muttered something about a man wishing to settle down, and it was a mistake to have a divided household." Sidney's face blanched. "Why, dad, this is dreadful! He can turn us out! If she means to marry him—and I believe she does—she will make him do it! Our sweet pretty home! I can't believe it!" Quick tears sprang to her eyes. "It's awful! I never imagined the house was not yours. It is, it must be. He gave it to you. He could not be so despicable as to say he did not." "I'm afraid it's a question of pride with me," said her father, holding up his head sternly. "If he wishes to dispute the fact of ownership, you and I must make our best bow and walk out!" Sidney's face was full of horror at the thought. "It will never come to that, it cannot! We have been such a happy family, and I'm really fond of Uncle Ted, and he likes me. He couldn't be such a brute! Oh, dad, dear, you don't feel well, and facts have become distorted in your mind. It is only the merest, most shadowy possibility! It will not come to pass!" "We will hope for the best." But there was no hope in the Admiral's voice, only tired depression. Sidney looked at him with affectionate anxiety; then she persuaded him to move to his couch, which she drew up near the fire. "You said you had a sleepless night, so do try and have a nap now. I will cover you up warmly. There's nothing so depressing as toothache. You will feel quite differently about everything when you wake. You and I will have a cosy tea together. Oh, dad, dear, nothing on earth matters if you and I have each other." Sidney bent down and kissed her father passionately as she spoke, then she slipped out of the room, and for a moment her cheerfulness deserted her. Then she pulled herself together.