Rosamund now ardently desired to become an actress, and after much secret discussion with his wife, her father had at last told her that if she were of the same opinion when she reached the age of twenty-one he would put no obstacle in her way.

As to Tom, the youngest of Janet Tosswill’s step-children, he was “quite all right.”  Though only fifteen months younger than Rosamund, whereas she was as much of a woman as she ever would be, he was still a cheery, commonplace schoolboy.  He had been such a baby when Janet had married that sometimes she almost felt as if he were her own child and that though Tom’s relation to her own son was peculiar.  Theoretically the two boys ought to have been pals, or at any rate good friends.  But in practice they were like oil and water—­and found it impossible to mix.  When Tom was at home, as now, on his holidays, he spent most of his time with a schoolfellow of his own age who lived about two miles from Beechfield.  In some ways Timmy was older now than Tom would ever be.

CHAPTER IV

Timmy went on into the dining-room to find his brothers and sisters all gathered there excepting Dolly.  But as he sat down, and as Betty began to pour out tea, Dolly came in from the garden with the words:—­“Guess who I’ve met and had a talk with?”

She looked round her eagerly, but no one ventured an opinion.  There were so many, many people whom Dolly might have met and had a talk with, for she was the most gregarious member of the Tosswill family.

At last Timmy spoke up:—­“I expect you’ve seen Mrs. Crofton,” he observed, his mouth already full of bread and butter.

Dolly was taken aback.  “How did you know?” she cried.  “But it’s quite true—­I have seen Mrs. Crofton!”

“What is she like?” asked Jack indifferently.

“How old is she?” This from Betty, who somehow always seemed to ask the essential question.

“D’you think she’ll prove a ’stayer’?” questioned Tom.

He had hoped that someone with a family of boys and girls would have come to The Trellis House.  It was a beautiful little building—­the oldest dwelling-house in the village, in spite of its early Victorian name.  But no one ever stayed there very long.  Some of the older village folk said it was haunted.

“Did you speak to her, or did she speak to you?” asked Rosamund.

And then again Timmy intervened.

“I know more about her than any one of you do.  But I don’t mean to tell you what I know,” he announced.

No one took any notice of him.  By common consent efforts were always made in the family circle to keep Timmy down—­but such efforts were rarely successful.

“Well, tell us what’s she like?” exclaimed Rosamund.  “I did so hope we should escape another widow.”

She had hoped for a nice, well-to-do couple, with at least one grown-up son preferably connected, in some way, with the stage.