merely a matter of
convenience--or opportunity."

"Oh Rupert!" moaned Sophia, clasping the locket which contained her
dead lover's hair with a gesture with which all who knew her were very
familiar. Mr. Landale never could resist a thrust at the faithful
foolish bosom always ready to bleed under his stabs, yet never
resenting them. Inexplicable vagary of the feminine heart! Miss
Sophia worshipped before the shrine of her younger brother, to the
absolute exclusion of any sentiment for the elder, whose generosity
and kindness to her were yet as great as was Rupert's tyranny.

"Go on," said the latter, alternately smiling at his nails and biting
them, "Tanty O'Donoghue observes that I shall be surprised to hear
that she will arrive very shortly after this letter, if not before it.
Poor old Tanty, there can be no mistake about her nationality. Have
the kindness to read straight on, Sophia. I don't want to hear any
more of your interesting comments. And don't stop till you have
finished, no matter how amazed you are."

Again he composed himself to listen, while his sister plunged at the
letter, and, after several false starts, found her place and
proceeded:

"Since, owing to his most _unfortunate_ peculiarity of Temperament and
consequent strange choice of abode, I cannot apply to my nephew
Adrian, _a qui de droit_ (as Head of the House) I must needs address
myself to you, my dear Rupert, to request hospitality for myself and
the two young Ladies now under my Charge."

The letter wavered in Miss Sophia's hand and an exclamation hung upon
her lip, but a sudden movement of Rupert's exquisite crossed legs
recalled her to her task.

"These young ladies are _Mesdemoiselles de Savenaye_, and the
daughters of Madame la Comtesse de Savenaye, who was my sister Mary's
child. She and I, and Alice your mother, were sister co-heiresses as
you know, and therefore these young ladies are _my_ grand-nieces and
your _own_ cousins once removed. Of Cecile de Savenaye, her _strange_
adventures and ultimate _sad_ Fate in which your own brother was
implicated, you cannot but have heard, but you may probably have
forgotten even to the _very existence_ of these charming young women,
who were nevertheless born at Pulwick, and whom you must at some time
or other have beheld as infants during your _excellent_ and _lamented_
father's lifetime. They are, as you are doubtless also unaware--for I
have remarked a _growing_ Tendency in the younger g