and we were obliged to go
in. Then, hardly answering her and Emily, as they asked after papa, he
stood straight up in the middle of the rug and told us, beginning
with--"Ursula, did you know that our father had been married as a young
man in Canada?"

No. We had never guessed it.

"He was," my brother went on, "This is his daughter."

"Our sister!" Jaquetta asked. "Where has she been all this time?"

But I saw there must be more to trouble him, and then it came. "I
cannot tell. My father had every reason to believe that--she--his
first wife--had been killed in a massacre by the Red Indians; but if
what this person says is true, she only died two years ago. But it was
in all good faith that he married our mother. He had taken all means
to discover--"

Even then we did not perceive what this involved. I felt stunned and
numbed chiefly from seeing the great shock it had been to my father and
to him; but poor little Jaquetta and Emily were altogether puzzled; and
Jaquetta said, "But is this sister of ours such a very disagreeable
person, Torwood? Why didn't you bring her in and show her to us?"

Then he exclaimed, almost angrily at her simplicity, "Good heavens!
girls, don't you see what it all means? If this is true, I am not
Torwood. We are nothing--nobody--nameless."

He turned to the fire, put both elbows on the mantelshelf, and hid his
face in his hands. Emily sprang up, and tried to draw down his arm;
and she did, but he only used it to put her from him, hold her off at
arm's length, and look at her--oh! with such a tender face of firm
sorrow!

"Ah! Emily," he said; "you too! It has been all on false pretences!
That will have to be all over now."

Then Emily's great brown eyes grew bigger with wonder and dismay.

"False pretences!" she cried, "what false pretences? Not that you
cared for me, Torwood."

"Not that I cared for you," he said, with a suppressed tone that made
his voice _so_ deep! "Not that _I_ cared, but that Lord Torwood
did--Torwood is the baby upstairs."

"But it is you--you--you--Fulk!" said Emily, trying to creep and sidle
up to him, white doe fashion. I believe nobody had ever called him by
his Christian name before, and it made it sweeter to him, but still he
did not give in.

"Ah! that's all very well," he said, and his voice was softer then,
"but what would your mother say?"

"The same as I do," said Emily, undauntedly. "How should it change
one's feelings one bi