e very like, but
there is something in the expression of his face, and tone of his
voice, that recalls him to me strongly.

"This is my daughter Mary. We called her so after your mother. It
was a fancy of mine, for I knew her well before she married your
father. The two families were on terms of great friendship, and for
her sake, as well as for my brother's, I gave her the name."

"I am glad to meet you, cousin," the girl said, holding out her
hand frankly to him. "It is, of course, a great surprise to us, and
I can hardly realize yet that you are really my cousin."

"Now, Harry," his uncle said briskly, "I will give orders to have
your things taken out of the post chaise, and carried up to your
room. We shall be having lunch directly and, after that, you shall
tell us your story at full length."

Ten minutes later they sat down to lunch. When Harry rejoined the
others, he fancied he saw traces of tears in the eyes of Mrs.
Lindsay and her daughter; and he thought that perhaps they had been
thinking that, if their own boys had lived, they also would be
young men now.

After the meal was over, the squire said:

"Now, wife, we will all adjourn to the library. It is the most
comfortable room in the house, and the cosiest--just the place for
listening to a long story. I have told William to get two more
armchairs there, so that we can sit round the fire--which is quite
the proper thing to do when a story has to be told."

The light had faded out of the sky, and the curtains were drawn;
but the squire would not have candles lighted, saying that the
blaze of the fire was the proper thing to listen by. Harry related
fully the manner in which he had been brought up and trained, by
his nurse, for the time when he could present himself at Bombay;
and also his adventures in the Deccan, which had paved the way for
his obtaining a commission. He told the rest more briefly, though
he was obliged, in answer to the questions of the others, to go
somewhat further into his personal adventures.

"It is a wonderful story," the squire said, when he at last
finished. "There are many things that you have cut very short; and
which you must, some other time, tell us fully. Your poor father
would have reason to be proud of you, indeed, had he lived to see
you now. He thought that he was wonderfully fortunate, in obtaining
a majority at the age of thirty-five; but you have got it ten years
younger.

"Well, we have not spared you, for