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The next morning, just as breakfast was over at St Barnabas’ Vicarage, great excitement was caused among the children by the sight of a telegraph-boy coming up to the house. Six of them met him at the door, and conveyed the missive in triumph to Cecil, to whom it was addressed, offering meanwhile various suggestions as to the nature of the contents. It was with some difficulty that she succeeded in rescuing the envelope untorn, and in acquainting herself with the message.

“M. Arbuthnot to C. Anstruther.

“Come to me at once for two or three days. Have heard of something for you.”

Cecil read the words in astonishment, with all the children dancing and yelling round her like wild Indians. They were still in the hall, and Cecil was too much engrossed by the telegram to try to calm them, until the study door opened, and her father’s tired face looked out.

“Really, Cecil,” he began, “I think, when you know I am preparing my sermon, you might——” But his voice was drowned by the children.

“Daddy, Cissie’s got a telegram. We wouldn’t go to school until she would tell us what it was. She’s going to London, isn’t she?”