sands of Aberystwyth, and
now we present her to our readers for the last time, a sweet-faced,
lovely matron of twenty-six, who, with her husband, was waiting at the
Allington station, one bright June afternoon, for the incoming train
from New York. Just behind the station, where the horses would not be
startled by the engine, stood the family carriage, a large, roomy
vehicle, bought for comfort rather than show, and which seemed to be
full of children, though in reality there were only three. First, Neil,
the boy of five years and a half, who, with his dark eyes and hair, and
bright olive complexion, was the very image of the Neil for whom he was
named, and who was a most lovable and affectionate child.

Next to Neil was the three-year old Robin, with blue eyes and golden
hair, like the blind Robin for whom he was named, and next was the girl
baby, who came nearly a year and a half ago, and to whom Grey said, when
he first took her in his arms:

"I thank God for giving you to me my little daughter, and I am sure you
look just as your mother did when she first opened her eyes at
Stoneleigh. Yes, I am very glad for you, little Bessie McPherson."

And so that was the name they gave the baby with lustrous blue eyes and
wavy hair, and the same sweet, patient expression about the mouth as
there was about the mouth of the young girl-mother, whom Neil and Robin
called "Bessie mamma," while to their sister they gave the name of "Baby
Bessie."

And Baby Bessie was in the roomy carriage, sitting on Jenny's lap, and
playing peek-a-boo with Robin, while Neil stood on the opposite seat
engaged in a hot altercation with another boy about his own age, who,
dressed in deep black, which gave him a peculiar look, was seated at a
little distance in a most elegant carriage, with servants in livery, and
who, when asked by some one standing near what his name was, had
answered:

"I am Lord Rossiter Hardy, and I am waiting for my mother, who is coming
from New York, and who is going to bring me a bicycle."

Something in the boy's tone of superiority irritated Neil, who was
thoroughly democratic, and he called out:

"Phoo!--a _lord_--why you are nobody but Ross Hardy! and your
grandmother--"

"Hush, Neil, or I'll tell your father; and look where you are standin',
with your dirthy fate on the cushions. Come down directly, or I'll be
afther helpin' ye!" said Jennie; whereupon Neil turned his attention to
her, and a spirited battle ensu