er the same circumstances. I am sure there is need of
forbearance on both sides."

Sir Peter dropped John's hand, and strode to the window. In a moment he
faced about again.

"I can't have it that way," said he. "It was unspeakable----"

John stopped him.

"I beg you to say no more, sir. I assure you there is not an unkind
thought in my heart. Let the dead past bury its dead." John hesitated;
then stammered out--"Fine weather we are having, sir."

Sir Peter offered his hand again; their grasp was cordial. Each looked
straight into the other's eyes.

"Oh, dear," said Phyllis, pushing the big armchair nearer the fire.
"Isn't everything lovely!"

She coaxed her uncle into the chair with a pretty gesture, and seated
herself in a smaller one, with a happy little sigh.

There was a tap at the door.

John opened to Mrs. Farquharson; she curtseyed.

"You were wishful to see me, my d----ma'am?" she asked.

Phyllis laughed gayly. "You are wonderful, Farquharson," she said. "I
have been thinking for five minutes how nice it would be if my uncle
dined with us; if it were quite convenient for you."

"As ever could be," said Mrs. Farquharson. "I sent Genevieve for another
chicken as soon as ever he was in this room. You never saw a plumper."

"Isn't she wonderful?" Phyllis turned to her uncle. "Uncle Peter, you
must be formally presented to my dear Farquharson, my old nurse.
Farquharson--Sir Peter Oglebay, my uncle."

Mrs. Farquharson curtseyed again; Sir Peter rose and bowed gravely.

"A great many years ago I heard how wonderful you were, Farquharson,"
he said, "from a little girl, who is now grown,--and married,--but is of
the same opinion still. It was a piece of good fortune, indeed that
brought these children of mine to your house."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, Sir Peter," replied Mrs. Farquharson, her
gray eyes very large. "I should have made your acquaintance years ago if
that Mrs.--Well, least said, soonest mended. But sorry I am that never
did those advertisements meet my eye if ever they were printed. The
expense of them, too, sir, in every paper in London, every day for three
months. Not that you minded that!" Mrs. Farquharson had told the story
to the first-floor front; the first-floor front who had been in
stocks--and seen better days; it had not lost in the telling.

"If you are certain--" said Sir Peter to Mrs. Farquharson. "Very well,
I shall be glad to dine."

On the way to the lower regions, M