little
easier to other people. And you have the first claim--you and my
cousins; because you took me in and were good to me when I was a little,
friendless orphan of twelve years old. So, now that I have the chance,
you must come and stay with me in my house and keep me from feeling
lonely, and then I shall be able to think that my wealth is doing good
to somebody beside myself. You make me feel as if I were a stranger, and
not one of yourselves, when you object to my doing things for you. Would
you mind taking gifts from Kitty? And am I so much less dear to you than
Kitty? You used to tell me that I was like a daughter to you. Let me be
your daughter still."

Mr. Heron found it difficult to make protests in the face of these
arguments; and Mrs. Heron slid gracefully into the arrangement without
any protest at all. Kitty's objections were easily overcome; and the
children thought it perfectly natural that their cousin should share her
good gifts with them, in the same way that, when she was younger, she
divided with them the toys and sweeties that kind friends bestowed upon
her.

Therefore, when Hugo called at Strathleckie, he was struck with the fact
that it was Mrs. Heron, and not Elizabeth, who acted as his hostess. It
needed all his knowledge of the circumstances and history of the family
to convince himself that the house did not belong to Alfred Heron, the
artist, and that the stately girl in a plain, black dress, who poured
out the tea, was the real mistress of the house. She acted very much as
though she were a dependent, or at most an elder daughter, in the same
position as little Kitty, who assumed no airs of authority over anybody
or anything.

Hugo admired Elizabeth, as he admired beautiful women everywhere; but he
was not interested in her. Mentally he called her fool for not adopting
her right station and spending her money in her own way. She was too
grave for him. He was more at his ease with Kitty.

Rupert Vivian's message--if it could be called a message--was given
lightly and carelessly enough, but Hugo had the satisfaction of seeing
the colour flash all over Miss Heron's little _mignonne_ face as he
listened to Mrs. Heron's languid reply.

"Dear me! and is that old relative in Wales really dying? Mr. Vivian has
always made periodical excursions into Wales ever since I knew him.
Well, I wondered why he did not write to say that he was coming. It was
an understood thing that he should stay with