ere."

"His wife wrote the letter telling of his death, and that he asked
grand-auntie to forgive him--and that was all. She has never been able
to find the wife nor the son."

"'Tis sad," sighed Inna; "because she might have been so fond of the
son."

"Papa's portrait is at Wyvern Court--that's grand-auntie's own place,
you know. Grand-auntie says we shall be twin heiresses by-and-by."

"And your papa is--" here Inna flushed at her inquisitive question.

"Dead; and mamma too," said grave-browed Olive.

"Do you like living at the farm with your uncle?" inquired sprightly
Sybil.

"Yes; only I haven't been there long--and--and a grand-uncle isn't like
a grand-auntie," said Inna.

"And Dr. Willett hasn't got a broken heart," returned Sybil; "I suppose
doctors don't have broken hearts."

Well, the three dined in state at six with Madame Giche; the children
were having a rather free-and-easy time of it, for their governess, Miss
Gordon, was away nursing somebody ill, and so they did very much as they
listed, so long as they did not weary their aged relative.

What a charmed life was that into which Inna took her one day's peep,
and the outcome of it all was that when Miss Gordon returned she was to
go up to the Owl's Nest, and have lessons with the twins. Meantime, she
often spent a day there, and was brought home of an evening in the
carriage; then Sybil and Olive came for tea at the farm, and, after a
delightful evening spent in roasting chestnuts and the like, went back
in their turn in the carriage, the happiest girls, perhaps, alive. Thus
for a time all went merrily as Christmas bells; but one morning Oscar
broke the pleasant spell by announcing, "I'm not going down to Mr.
Fane's to-day," as Inna waited for him at the door to walk as far as the
Rectory gates with him, on her way to the Owl's Nest, her seat of
learning.

"Oh! I wish you were," said Inna.

"Why?" gruffly.

"Because you ought; because 'tis right."

"Oh, bother right! I'm not going; in fact, I can't. Dick Gregory's
coming over; there's to be steam threshing in the yard, no end of fun,
and I can't disappoint him. Besides, it can't be far wrong; doing it
under uncle's very nose;" and away went the boy, out of sight of his
cousin's reproachful eyes.

When Inna came home from the Owl's Nest in the evening, a drizzling rain
had come on. Oscar was absent somewhere with Dick Gregory, the two
gentlemen still out; so after tea the little girl sat