ith a kiss. If a married stranger had seen
them, at that moment, he would have been reminded of forgotten days--the
days of his honeymoon.

"And now," Linley resumed, "suppose we talk a little about ourselves. I
haven't seen any brother yet. Where is Randal?"

"Staying at the farm to look after your interests. We expect him to
come back to-day. Ah, Herbert, what do we not all owe to that dear good
brother of yours? There is really no end to his kindness. The last of
our poor Highland families who have emigrated to America have had their
expenses privately paid by Randal. The wife has written to me, and has
let out the secret. There is an American newspaper, among the letters
that are waiting your brother's return, sent to him as a little mark
of attention by these good grateful people." Having alluded to the
neighbors who had left Scotland, Mrs. Linley was reminded of other
neighbors who had remained. She was still relating events of local
interest, when the clock interrupted her by striking the hour of the
nursery dinner. What had become of Kitty? Mrs. Linley rose and rang the
bell to make inquiries.

On the point of answering, the servant looked round at the open door
behind him. He drew aside, and revealed Kitty, in the corridor, hand
in hand with Sydney Westerfield--who timidly hesitated at entering the
room. "Here she is mamma," cried the child. "I think she's afraid of
you; help me to pull her in."

Mrs. Linley advanced to receive the new member of her household, with
the irresistible grace and kindness which charmed every stranger who
approached her. "Oh, it's all right," said Kitty. "Syd likes me, and I
like Syd. What do you think? She lived in London with a cruel woman who
never gave her enough to eat. See what a good girl I am? I'm beginning
to feed her already." Kitty pulled a box of sweetmeats out of her
pocket, and handed it to the governess with a tap on the lid, suggestive
of an old gentleman offering a pinch of snuff to a friend.

"My dear child, you mustn't speak of Miss Westerfield in that way! Pray
excuse her," said Mrs. Linley, turning to Sydney with a smile; "I am
afraid she has been disturbing you in your room."

Sydney's silent answer touched the mother's heart; she kissed her little
friend. "I hope you will let her call me Syd," she said gently; "it
reminds me of a happier time." Her voice faltered; she could say no
more. Kitty explained, with the air of a grown person encouraging a
child.