Duburg came in at five o'clock, but brought a
message that their sisters would come in with their father and
mother, later. Melanie was neither surprised nor disappointed at
the non-arrival of her cousins. She greatly preferred being with
the boys, and always felt uncomfortable with Julie and Justine;
who, although little older than herself, were already as prim,
decorous, and properly behaved as if they had been women of thirty
years old. After tea was over, the four boys returned to their work
of gathering plums; while Melanie--or Milly, as her father called
her, to distinguish her from her mother--picked up the plums that
fell, handed up fresh baskets and received the full ones, and
laughed and chattered with her brothers and cousins.

While so engaged, Monsieur and Madame Duburg arrived, with their
daughters, Julie and Justine. Monsieur Duburg--Mrs. Barclay's
brother--was proprietor of a considerable estate, planted almost
entirely with vines. His income was a large one, for the soil was
favorable, and he carried on the culture with such care and
attention that the wines fetched a higher price than any in the
district. He was a clear-headed, sensible man, with a keen eye to a
bargain. He was fond of his sister and her English husband, and had
offered no opposition to his boys entering into the games and
amusements of their cousins--although his wife was constantly
urging him to do so. It was, to Madame Duburg, a terrible thing
that her boys--instead of being always tidy and orderly, and ready,
when at home, to accompany her for a walk--should come home
flushed, hot, and untidy, with perhaps a swelled cheek or a black
eye, from the effects of a blow from a cricket ball or boxing
glove.

Upon their arrival at Captain Barclay's, the two gentlemen strolled
out to smoke a cigar together, and to discuss the prospects of the
war and its effect upon prices.

Mrs. Barclay had asked Julie and Justine if they would like to go
down to the orchard; but Madame Duburg had so hurriedly answered in
their name, in a negative--saying that they would stroll round the
garden until Melanie returned--that Mrs. Barclay had no resource
but to ask them, when they passed near the orchard, to call
Milly--in her name--to join them in the garden.

"My dear Melanie," Madame Duburg began, when her daughters had
walked away in a quiet, prim manner, hand in hand, "I was really
quite shocked, as we came along. There was Melanie, laughing and
c