He made an impatient movement. "For Heaven's sake," he said testily, "tell those squalling children to go!" Piers did not stir. "In a moment, sir!" he said. And so, clear through the night air, the last verse came unhindered to an end. "Our glad hosannas, Prince of peace, Thy welcome shall proclaim; And Heaven's eternal arches ring With Thy beloved Name. And Heaven's eternal arches ring With Thy beloved Name." Piers threw up his head with a sudden, spasmodic movement as of a drowning man. And then without pause he snatched up the blind and flung the window wide. "Hi, you kiddies! Where are you? Don't run away! Gracie, is that you?" There was a brief silence, then chirpily came the answer. "Pat did the solo; but he's gone. He would have gone sooner--when we saw your shadow on the blind--only I held him so that he couldn't." Piers broke into a laugh. "Well, come in now you are here! You're not afraid anyhow, what?" "Oh no!" laughed Gracie. "I'm not a bit afraid. But I'm supposed to be in bed; and if Father finds out I'm not--" She paused with her customary sense of the dramatic. "Well?" laughed Piers. "What'll happen then?" "I shall cop it," said Gracie elegantly. Nevertheless she came to him, and stood on the grass outside the window. The lamplight from within shone on her upturned face with its saucy, confiding smile. Her head was uncovered and gleamed golden in the radiance. She was wearing a very ancient fur cloak belonging to her mother, and she glowed like a rose in the sombre drapery. Piers stooped to her with hands invitingly outstretched. "Come along, Pixie! We shan't eat you, and I'll take you home on my shoulder afterwards and see you don't get copped." She uttered a delighted little laugh, and went upwards into his hold like a scrap of floating thistledown. He lifted her high in his arms, crossed the room with her, and set her down before the old man who still sat at the table, sardonically watching. "Miss Gracie Lorimer!" he said. "Hullo, child!" growled Sir Beverley. Gracie looked at him with sparkling, adventurous eyes. As she had told Piers, she was not a bit afraid. After the briefest pause she held out her hand with charming _insouciance_. "How do you do?" she said. Sir Beverley slowly took the hand, and pulled her towards him, gazing at her from under his black brows with a piercing scrutiny that would have terrified a more timid child. Timidity however was not one of Gracie's weaknesses. She gave him a friendly smile, and waited without the smallest sign of uneasiness for him to speak. "What have you come here for?" he demanded gruffly at length. "I'll tell you," said Gracie readily. She went close to him, confidingly close, looking straight into the formidable grey eyes. "You see, it was my idea. Pat didn't want to come, but I made him." "Forward young minx!" commented Sir Beverley. Gracie laughed at the compliment.