nd though inquisitive were altogether amiable; and, until the
last afternoon, only the manager didn't like the Twinklers. He didn't
like them because of the canary. His sympathies had been alienated from
the Miss Twinklers the moment he heard through the chambermaid that they
had tied the heavy canary cage on to the hanging electric light in their
bedroom. He said nothing, of course. One doesn't say anything if one is
an hotel manager, until the unique and final moment when one says
everything.

On the last afternoon before Mrs. Bilton's advent the twins, tired of
standing about for days at the cottage and in shops, appeared in the
hall of the hotel and sat down to rest. They didn't go to their room to
rest because they didn't feel inclined for the canary, and they sat down
very happily in the comfortable rocking-chairs with which the big hall
abounded, and, propping their dusty feet on the lower bar of a small
table, with friendly and interested eyes they observed the other guests.

The other guests also observed them.

It was the first time the _entourage_ had appeared without its
companion, and the other guests were dying to know details about it. It
hadn't been sitting in the hall five minutes before a genial old
gentleman caught Anna-Felicitas's friendly eye and instantly drew up his
chair.

"Uncle gone off by himself to-day?" he asked; for he was of the party in
the hotel which inclined, in spite of the marked difference in profiles,
to the relationship theory, and he made a shot at the relationship being
that of uncle.

"We haven't got an uncle nearer than England," said Anna-Felicitas
affably.

"And we only got him by accident," said Anna-Rose, equally affably.

"It was an unfortunate accident," said Anna-Felicitas, considering her
memories.

"Indeed," said the old gentleman. "Indeed. How was that?"

"By the usual method, if an uncle isn't a blood uncle," said Anna-Rose.
"We happened to have a marriageable aunt, and he married her. So we have
to have him."

"It was sheer bad luck," said Anna-Felicitas, again brooding on that
distant image.

"Yes," said Anna-Rose. "Just bad luck. He might so easily have married
some one else's aunt. But no. His roving glance must needs go and fall
on ours."

"Indeed," said the old gentleman. "Indeed." And he ruminated on this,
with an affectionate eye--he was affectionate--resting in turn on each
Anna.

"Then Mr. Twist," he went on presently--"we all know him of