utcome of
life-long habit than instances of separate volition. No question of what
answer to send occurred to Trenholme's mind as he pencilled his reply,
assuring a welcome to the sick man.

When the answer was despatched he saw that, as fate had thrust the
notice of this arrival between him and the proposed interview with
Sophia; it would be better, after all, to wait only a day or two more,
until he knew his brother's mind.

He heard nothing more from Alec that day. The day after was Saturday,
and it rained heavily.

"What time will the gentlemen arrive?" asked Mrs. Martha, but not as if
she took much interest in the matter.

"I can't tell," he replied. "They will probably let us know; but it's
best to be ready when guests may come any time, isn't it?"

He asked her this with a cheering smile, because her manner was strange,
and he wished to rouse her to a sense of her duties.

"Yes, sir; 'twouldn't seem like as if we was truly expecting and hoping
unless we did our best to be ready."

The fervour of her answer surprised him.

For some time past Winifred Rexford had been spending part of each
morning learning housewifery of Mrs. Martha. That day, because of the
rain, Trenholme insisted upon keeping her to dinner with him. He brought
her into his dining-room with playful force, and set her at the head of
his table. It was a great pleasure to him to have the child. He twitted
her with her improvement in the culinary art, demanding all sorts of
impossible dishes in the near future for his brother's entertainment. He
was surprised at the sedateness of her answers, and at a strange look of
excited solicitude that arose in her eyes. It seemed to him that she was
several times on the point of saying something to him, and yet she did
not speak.

"What is it, Princess Win?" he cried. "What is in your mind, little
one?"

He came to the conclusion that she was not very well. He got no
information from her on the subject of her health or anything else; but
thinking naturally that the change in the weather might have given her
cold, he took pains to wrap her in his own mackintosh and take her home
under his own large umbrella.

When there, he went in. He was greatly cheered by the idea that,
although he might not tell his mind that day, he was now and henceforth
courting Sophia openly, whatever befell; but the open courting, since it
had only begun with his resolution of yesterday, and existed only in his
own intent