"I am warming a few of Jack's old things for them.
They cannot go back to Somasco to-night, you know." "I confess that it did not occur to me," said Townshead languidly.
"No, I suppose one could scarcely expect them to, and we shall have to endure their company." A faint sparkle that had nothing to do with laughter crept into the girl's eyes, for there were times when her father tried her patience.
"I wonder if it occurred to you that we shall probably starve to-morrow unless Mr.Alton, who is apparently not to be paid for it, makes what must be a very arduous march to-night ?" she said.
"I'm afraid it did not," said Townshead, with a fine unconcern.

"I think you understand, my dear, that I leave the commissariat to you, and you have a way of putting things which jars upon one occasionally." A little trace of colour crept into the girl's cheek, but it faded again as she sat down beside the stove.

Still, now and then she pricked her fingers with the needle, which she had not done before, and finally laid down the fabric and laughed softly.

"There is," she said, "something distinctly humorous in the whole position." "You," said her father, "had always a somewhat peculiar sense of humour." "Well," said his daughter with a slight quiver of her lips, "I feel that I must either cry or laugh to-night.

Do you know there is scarcely enough for breakfast in the house, and that I am dreadfully hungry now ?" Townshead glanced at her reproachfully.