It must be you, I'm afraid, poor old fellow!" The reader paused again.
"I LIKE THAT BIT ABOUT SPELLING," SAID JACK.
"I THINK BARBARA AND PHILIP WERE VERY LUCKY," SAID ROBERT.

"THERE'S NO FUN LIKE THAT NOW.

WY IS ALL THE FUN IN THE PAST ?" "I THINK IT'S FUN TO GO FOR A CARAVAN-TOUR," SAID MISS REDSTONE; "AND THAT'S IN THE PRESENT." "OH, YES," SAID ROBERT, "THAT'S FUN, NO DOUBT; BUT IT DOESN'T COMPARE WITH FIGHTING AGAINST ROUNDHEADS." "I THINK BARBARA WAS MOST HORRIBLY LUCKY," SAID HESTER, "BECAUSE, OF COURSE, THE STRANGER WAS--" "HUSH!" SAID THE AUTHOR; AND SHE BEGAN TO READ ONCE MORE.
The day wore on slowly.

Barbara did her best to go through the household duties naturally, but the tension was severe.

She was perpetually conscious of a fear that, after all, in spite of his confidence in his skill, the stranger might have been tracked and pursued.
She had, indeed, in the peace of the afternoon, but just dismissed the suspicion, when the white face of Philip appearing suddenly at the door of the library, where she was sitting, brought back all her tremors.
"Roundheads!" he gasped.
Her heart stood still.