'You will see when he comes on Monday.'

'Coming--oh! And is he so very handsome?'

'I can see how pretty a woman your Aunt Louisa must have been.'

'News!' laughed Virginia; 'when mamma is always preaching to me to be
like her!'

'Is he goodnatured?' asked Louisa.

'I had not full means of judging,' said Isabel, more thoughtfully than
seemed justified by the childish question. 'His cousin is coming too,'
she added; 'Mr. Frost Dynevor.'

'Another cousin!' exclaimed Virginia.

'No; a relation of Lord Ormersfield--a person to be much respected. He
is heir to a lost estate, and of a very grand old family. Lord
Fitzjocelyn says that he is exerting himself to the very utmost for his
grandmother and orphan sister; denying himself everything. He is to be
a clergyman. There was a book of divinity open on the table.'

'He must be very good!' said Louisa, in a low, impressed voice, and
fondling her sister's hand. 'Will he be as good as Sir Roland?'

'Oh! I am glad he is coming!' cried Virginia. 'We have so wished to
see somebody very good!'

A bell rang--a signal that Lady Conway would be in her room, where she
liked her two girls to come to her while she was dressing. Louisa
reluctantly detached herself from her sister, and Virginia lingered to
say, 'Dress quickly, please, please, Isabel. I know there is a new bit
of Sir Roland done! Oh! I hope Mr. Dynevor is like him!'

'Not quite,' said Isabel, smiling as they ran away. 'Poor children, I
am afraid they will be disappointed; but long may their craving be to
see 'somebody very good!'

'I am very glad they should meet any one answering the description,'
said the governess. 'I don't gather that you are much delighted with
the object of the expedition.'

'A pretty boy--very pretty. It quite explains all I have ever heard of
his mother.'

'As you told the children.'

'More than I told the children. Their aunt never by description seemed
to me my ideal, as you know. I would rather have seen a likeness to
Lord Ormersfield, who--though I don't like him--has something striking
in the curt, dry, melancholy dignity of his manner.'

'And how has Lord Fitzjocelyn displeased you?'

'Perhaps there is no harm in him--he may not have character enough for
that; but talk, attitudes, everything betrays that he is used to be
worshipped--takes it as a matter of course, and believes nothing so
interesting as himself.'

'Don't you think you may have gone with yo