er seemed to startle Raby Ferrers in that
strange dreamy life of his.

"Who are you, my child, and who is your grandpapa?"

"My grandpapa's name is Mr. Huntingdon, and he lives in this
house--Belgrave House it is called, and I am Florence Trafford, but
they call me Fluff at home."

The name roused him effectually; ah, he was startled now. "Florence
Trafford, did you say; do you mean that you live at Beulah Place in
the Elysian Fields."

"Yes, at Mrs. Watkins's--mother, and Fern, and I, and Crystal too,
only she went away this morning."

"Away--what do you mean?" and Fluff's poor little hands were held so
tightly that they were quite red and sore afterward.

"Oh, she has gone to America with that horrid Miss Campion; yes, and
she is horrid to take our dear Criss-crass away. Fern cried so this
morning, and Crystal cried too, but she had to go, she said, so it was
no use making a fuss about it; and she does not mean to come back for
a long time. What is the matter?" peering curiously in his face, "does
your head ache?"--for Raby had uttered a low groan, and had dropped
Fluff's hands, and he was pushing back the heavy dead-brown hair as
though he were suddenly oppressed.

Fluff did not wait for his answer; she chattered on very much at her
ease.

"Mother and Fern only think I am taking a walk, but I always meant to
come and see grandpapa on my birthday. I should think he ought to be
very glad to see me; and if he is not," here her lip quivered a
little, "I should tell him he is very naughty to live in this
beautiful house while poor mother is so poor, and goes out teaching."
But, as she spoke, the door had opened softly, and a tall gray-haired
man, with a thin erect figure, walked slowly into the room, leaning on
Erle's arm, while Percy followed him.

Fluff gave a little exclamation at the sight of the two young men, and
then ran toward Mr. Huntingdon, her broad-brimmed hat falling on her
neck, and her dark eyes all aglow with excitement.

"I have come to see you, grandpapa," she said, holding out her hand
with the air of a little princess; and then, as he did not take it,
she continued rather piteously, "please, dear grandpapa, don't be
angry with me, for I have come all this way of my own accord, and I am
so tired and hungry."

If a thunder-bolt had fallen in the midst of that stately room it
could not have created a greater sensation.

Erle flushed and looked uncomfortable, a dark frown crossed her
broth