hopeless sound.

The Canon did think it very hopeless in his heart, but he persevered,
as in duty bound. 'I told your dear mother that perhaps you would
succeed where she thought she had failed, though indeed she had done
much. It made her happy. So, my dear child, you are bound to do your
best.'

'Yes;' then, after a pause--'But mother could coax him and manage him.
Mother was with him day and night; she could always get at him. What
can I do?'

'I think you will find that he depends upon you more,' said the Canon,
'and it may be made easier to you, if you only set your will to it.'

'If I ought, I'll try,' said poor Nuttie, more humbly perhaps than she
had ever spoken before, but in utter dejection, and her uncle answered
her like a child.

'There, that's a good girl. Nobody can do more.'

For the Canon had one hope. He had not thought it becoming to speak to
her of the counter influence, but he could not help thinking it
possible that if he and his son, backed by doctor and lawyer, made a
long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether, they might induce his
brother to part with Gregorio, and this would render Ursula's task far
less impossible.

He was confirmed in this hope by finding that Mark's arrival was not
unwelcome to Mr. Egremont, who seemed to have forgotten the
unpleasantness with which he had regarded the engagement, and only
remembered that his nephew had been Alice's champion, resuming old
customs of dependence, making him act as amanuensis, and arraigning the
destiny that had restored so lovely and charming a creature only to
snatch her away, leaving nothing but a headstrong girl and a helpless
baby.

That poor little fellow was all that could be desired at his age, but
Nuttie felt her beautiful mother almost insulted when the elder ladies
talked of the wonderful resemblance that the Canoness declared to have
been quite startling in the earlier hours of his life. For the
convenience of one of the sponsors, he was to be christened in the
afternoon following the funeral, the others being--by his mother's
special entreaty--his sister and Mark. Egremont customs were against
the ladies going to the funeral, so that Nuttie was kept at home, much
against her will; but after the luncheon she escaped, leaving word with
her aunts that she was going to walk down to church alone, and they
were sorry enough for her to let her have her own way, especially as
her father, having been to the funeral,