To the young people’s scarcely suppressed satisfaction, Miss Beach went out after tea to attend an important meeting, leaving her nephew and niece to spend the evening alone together.  They had never expected such luck.  As it was Friday Winona had no lessons to prepare for the next day, and could feel free for a delightful chat.  She flung herself into Aunt Harriet’s special big easy chair by the fireside, and lounged luxuriously, while Percy, boy-like, prowled about the room.

“Well, I’m glad you’re jogging along all right,” he remarked when his sister’s long account came to a pause.  “Though please don’t for a moment compare your blessed old High School to Longworth, for they’re not in the same running!  Aunt Harriet hasn’t quite eaten you up yet, I see?”

“She’s not such a Gorgon as I expected.  In fact she’s been rather decent.”

“The dragon’s sheathed her talons?  Well, that’s good biz.  You went off as tragic as Iphigenia, heroically declaring yourself the family sacrifice.”

“Did I?” Winona had almost forgotten her original attitude of martyr.  Three weeks had made a vast difference to her feelings.

“If you can peg it out in comfort with the dragon so much to the good.  Shouldn’t care to live here myself though.  It’s a dull hole.  Number 10, Abbey Close wouldn’t be my choice of a residence.”

“Well, it’s not likely you’ll ever have the chance of living here!” retorted Winona, taking up the cudgels for her adopted home.

“I don’t know about that,” returned Percy.  “The house belongs to Aunt Harriet.  She’ll have to leave her property to somebody, I suppose, when she shuffles off this mortal coil.  I’m the eldest son, and my name’s Percy Beach Woodward.  That ought to count for something.”

“Aunt Harriet’s not going to die yet,” said Winona gravely.  “I think it’s horrid of you to talk like this!”

“Oh, I don’t wish the old girl any harm, but one may have an eye to the future all the same,” was the airy response.  “D’you remember Jack Cassidy who was a pupil at the Vicarage?  His aunt left him five thousand pounds.”

“Yes, and I heard he’s muddling it away as fast as he can.  Mary James told me.  Her father’s guardian of part of his property until he’s twenty-five, you know.”

“He’s a topper, is Jack!  He’s promised to take me for a day sometime to Hartleburn, when the races are on.  Now don’t you go blabbing, or I’ll never tell you anything again!”

“Mr. Joynson said—­”

“Oh, for goodness sake shut up!  A boy of sixteen isn’t going to be bear-led by an old fogey like Joynson.  He has the mater far too much under his finger and thumb for my taste.  If you want to be chums with me, don’t preach!”

Winona was silent.  Her brother’s infatuation for the Vicar’s scapegrace ward was the affair of a year ago.  She had hoped he had forgotten it.  His escapades at the time, in company with his hero, had caused his mother to seek the advice and guidance of her trustee.