and
glowed, and lighted up the comfortable looking room, with its dark,
massive, carved oak furniture, its painted glass windows, its rich but
faded velvet draperies, interspersed here and there with a piece of old
tapestry, the needlework of the ladies of former generations. A few
family portraits, and well-filled bookcases of vellum-bound octavos,
quartos and folios. As the butler threw open the door of the room and
announced Master Cecil Vyvyan, Anna went forward to greet the latter,
and almost gave a start of surprise at seeing the real cousin differ so
much from the ideal one which she had pictured to herself; for she
expected to find Cecil of the same type as the English boys that she had
always seen. She thought he would be large of his age, with a fresh rosy
complexion, bright eyes, an open countenance, crowned with masses of
rich, curling locks. Strong and healthy, overflowing with buoyant
spirits, agile and ready for active service either of work or play.
Instead of which there stood before her one of small stature and thin,
diminutive figure, with a pale, weary-looking face and tired eyes, which
apparently did not observe any of the objects by which he was
surrounded, but concentrated their gaze upon the young girl only, with
whom he stood face to face, carefully regarding her with that scrutiny
which we are all wont to use when we first make the acquaintance of a
new relative.

Anna gave him her hand and welcomed him with a few kind words. As the
boy and girl stood there, no two cousins could have appeared more
externally unlike, and yet never were two more alike in their highest
tastes and deepest feelings. But an ordinary looker-on would only see
the boy so small, and quiet, and weary, and the girl so tall, and
active, and healthy, abounding in lively spirits, in the full enjoyment
of her young life, with the mother she adored, thinking nothing could be
more beautiful than her picturesque old home and its surroundings of
hill and valley, and woodland, and broad green meadows, and turning over
in her mind how she would show Cecil all the favorite haunts. The lily
pond in the park, the finest view of the Welsh mountains, and the right
place for a good gallop--then the ponies, and the dogs, and the fish
pools.

"You must be tired from so long a journey, Cousin Cecil," said she, "let
me bring this armchair; it is the most restful one in the whole house.
It has a pedigree, too, the same as you and I have. It