ing to persuade her sister-in-law to postpone the
commencement of what the little widow was pleased to call her "penal
servitude," and accompany her to Twickenham.

She departed, however, without her, looking her very best, and uttering
many promises to come and see Katie soon, to try her powers of pleasing
on that dreadful old uncle of ours, to bring the dear boys, and see if
they would not cut out their aunty, etc.

Mrs. Liddell and her daughter were most thankful to have the last few
hours together, and yet they said little, and that chiefly respecting
past days which they had enjoyed together--little excursions on the Elbe
or in the neighborhood of Florence; a couple of months once passed at
Siena, which was a mental epoch to Katherine, who was then about
fifteen; promises to write; and tender queries on the mother's side if
she had remembered this or that.

The little boys clung to her, Charlie in tears, Cecil very solemn. Both
had taken up the sort of camera-obscura image of their elders' views
which children contrive to obtain so mysteriously without hearing
anything distinct concerning them, and both considered "Uncle John" a
sort of modern ogre, only restrained by the policeman outside from
making a daily meal of the nearest infant school, and sure to gobble up
aunty some day. Charlie trembled at the thought; Cecil pondered
profoundly how, by the judicious arrangement of a trap-door in the
middle of his room, he might carry out the original idea of Jack the
Giant-Killer.

"Pray don't think of coming with me, mother," said Katherine, seeing
Mrs. Liddell take out her bonnet. "I could not bear to think of your
lonely drive back. Trust me to myself. I am not going to be either
frightened or cast down, and I will write to-morrow."

"Then I must let you go, darling! On Sunday next, Katie, we shall see
you."

A long, fond embrace, and Mrs. Liddell was indeed alone.

CHAPTER VI.

"SHIFTING SCENES."

Parting is often worst to those who stay behind. Imagination paints the
trials and difficulties of the one who has put out to sea as far worse
than the reality, while variety and action brace the spirit of him who
goes forth.

Katherine's reception, however, was paralyzing enough.

Nothing was in her favor save the mellow brightness of the fine warm
evening, though from its south-east aspect the parlor at Legrave
Crescent was already in shadow. There, in his usual seat beside the
fire--for, though a m