Sisters Three | Page 5

you would all grow strong in this fine,
mountain air, and that I could work in peace, knowing that you were
out of the way of mischief. So far as the boys and myself are concerned,
the plan has worked well. I get on with my work, and they enjoy
running wild in their holidays; but the little lasses have pined, have
they? Poor little lasses! I am sorry to hear that. Now come--the post
brought me some cheques this morning, and I am inclined to be
generous. Next week, or the week after, I must run up to London on
business, and I will bring you each a nice present on my return. Choose
what it shall be, and I will get it for you if it is to be found in the length
and breadth of the city. Now then, wish in turns. What will you have?"
"It's exactly like the father in Beauty and the Beast, before he starts on
his travels! I am sure Lettice would like a white moss rose!" cried
Norah roguishly. "As for me, I am afraid it's no use. There is only one
thing I want--lessons from the very best violin master in London!"
"Three servants who could work by electricity, and not keep me
running after them all day long!"
"Half a dozen big country houses near to us, with sons and daughters in
each, who would be our friends."
They were all breathless with eagerness, and Mr Bertrand listened with
wrinkled brow. He had expected to be asked for articles of jewellery or
finery, and the replies distressed him, as showing that the discontent
was more deepseated than he had imagined. For several moments he sat
in silence, as though puzzling out a difficult problem. Then his brow
cleared, and he smiled, his own, cheery smile.

"Hilary, pack your boxes, and get ready to go up to London with me on
Monday week. If you are seventeen, you are old enough to pay visits,
and we will stay for a fortnight with my old friend Miss Carr, in
Kensington. She is a clever woman, and I will talk to her and see what
can be done. I can't work miracles, but I will do what I can to please
you. May I be allowed to have another cup of tea, Miss Seventeen?"
"Poor, dear, old father! Don't look so subdued. You may have a dozen
if you like. Monday next! How lovely! You are the dearest father in all
the world!"
Mr Bertrand shrugged his shoulders.
"When I give you your own way," he said drily. "Pass the cake, Lettice.
If I have three grown-up daughters on my hands, I must make every
effort to keep up my strength."
Lettice and Norah had a little conversation on the stairs as they went
upstairs to change their dresses for dinner.
"It's very nice for Hilary, this going up to London; but it doesn't do us
any good. When is something going to happen for us?"
"I suppose we shall have to wait for our turn," sighed Lettice dolefully;
but that very same evening an unexpected excitement took place in the
quiet household, and though the Mouse's prophecy was fulfilled,
inasmuch as it could hardly be called an incident of a cheerful nature, it
was yet fated to lead to great and far-reaching results.
CHAPTER THREE.
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST.
The old grandfather's clock was just striking six o'clock when
Raymond and Bob, the two public schoolboys, came home from their
afternoon excursion. They walked slowly up the drive, supporting
between them the figure of a young fellow a few years older than
themselves, who hopped painfully on one foot, and was no sooner

seated on the oak bench in the hall, than he rested his head against the
rails, and went off into a dead faint. The boys shouted at the pitch of
their voices, whereupon Mr Bertrand rushed out of his sanctum,
followed by every other member of his household.
"Good gracious! Who is it? What is the matter? Where did he come
from? Has he had an accident?" cried the girls in chorus, while Miss
Briggs ran off for sal volatile and other remedies.
The stranger was a tall, lanky youth, about eighteen years of age, with
curly brown hair and well-cut features, and he made a pathetic figure
leaning back in the big oak seat.
"He's the son of old Freer, the Squire of Brantmere," explained
Raymond, as he busied himself unloosing the lad's collar and tie. "We
have met him several times when we have been walking. Decent
fellow--Harrow-- reading at home for college, and hates it like poison.
We were coming a short cut over the mountains, when he slipped on a
bit of ice, and twisted his ankle