The principle was a wrong one and she knew it, but for the life of her she could not have resisted the temptation at that moment. She had an unholy desire to get the better of the Reverend Stephen which would not be denied. Mrs. Lorimer checked her tears. "You're very kind," she murmured shakily. She dried her eyes and sat up. "Do you think it would be wrong to give them a spoonful of brandy?" she asked wistfully. But Avery's principles were proof against this at least. "Yes, I do," she said. "But we can manage quite well without it. Let us go, shall we, and see what can be done?" "I'm afraid I'm very wicked," sighed Mrs. Lorimer. "I'm very thankful to have you with us, dear. I don't know what I should do without you." Avery's pretty mouth took an unfamiliar curve of grimness for a moment, but she banished it at once. She slipped a sustaining hand through Mrs. Lorimer's arm. "Thank you for saying so, though, you know, I've only been with you a fortnight, and I don't feel that I have done very much to deserve such high praise." "I don't think time has much to do with friendship," said Mrs. Lorimer, looking at her with genuine affection in her faded blue eyes. "Do you know I became engaged to my husband before I had known him a fortnight?" But this was a subject upon which Avery found it difficult to express any sympathy, and she gently changed it. "You are looking very tired. Don't you think you could lie down for a little in your bedroom before supper?" "I must see the poor boys first," protested Mrs. Lorimer. "Yes, of course. We will go straight up, shall we?" She led her to the door with the words, and they went out together into the hall. As they emerged, a sudden burst of stormy crying came from the study. Pat was literally howling at the top of his voice. His mother stopped and wrung her hands. "Oh, what is to be done? He always cries like that. He used to as a baby--the only one of them who did. Mrs. Denys, what shall I do? I don't think I can bear it." Avery drew her on towards the stairs. "My dear, come away!" she said practically. "You can't do anything. Interference will only make matters worse. Let us go right up to the boys' room! Pat is sure to come up directly." They went to the boys' room. It was a large attic in which the three elder boys slept. Ronald and Julian, aged fifteen and fourteen respectively, were both lying prostrate on their beds. Julian uttered a forced laugh at the sight of his mother's face. "My dear Mater, for Heaven's sake don't come fussing round here! We've been smoking some filthy cigars--little beastly Brown dared us to--and there's been the devil to pay. I can't get up. My tummy won't let me." "Oh, Julian, why do you do it?" said Mrs. Lorimer, in great distress. "You know what your father said the last time." She bent over him. Julian was her favourite of them all. But he turned his face sharply to avoid her kiss.