of
naughtiness, and she spoke strongly in confidence to Honora of the
ungodly ways of the whole household, declaring that after the advantages
she had enjoyed with her dear master, she could not bear to live there,
though she might--yes, she _must_ be with the dear children just at
first, and she ventured to express strong wishes for their remaining in
their present home, where they had been so much improved.

The captain came alone. He walked in from the inn just before luncheon,
with a wearied, sad look about him, as if he had suffered a good deal; he
spoke quietly and slowly, and when the children came in, he took them up
in his arms and kissed them very tenderly. Lucilla submitted more
placably than Honor expected, but the moment they were set down they
sprang to their friend, and held by her dress. Then came the meal, which
passed off with small efforts at making talk, but with nothing memorable
except the captain's exclamation at the end--'Well, that's the first time
I ever dined with you children without a fuss about the meat. Why,
Cilly, I hardly know you.'

'I think the appetites are better for the sea air,' said Honor, not that
she did not think it a great achievement.

'I'm afraid it has been a troublesome charge,' said the captain, laying
his hand on his niece's shoulder, which she at once removed, as
disavowing his right in her.

'Oh! it has made me so happy,' said Honor, hardly trusting her voice; 'I
don't know how to yield it up.'

Those understanding eyes of Lucilla's were drinking in each word, but
Uncle Kit ruthlessly said--'There, it's your walking time, children; you
go out now.'

Honora followed up his words with her orders, and Lucille obeyed, only
casting another wistful look, as if she knew her fate hung in the scales.
It was showing tact such as could hardly have been expected from the
little impetuous termagant, and was the best pleading for her cause, for
her uncle's first observation was--'A wonder! Six months back, there
would have been an explosion!'

'I am glad you think them improved.'

'Civilized beings, not plagues. You have been very good to them;' and as
she intimated her own pleasure in them, he continued--'It will be better
for them at Castle Blanch to have been a little broken in; the change
from his indulgence would have been terrible.'

'If it were possible to leave them with me, I should be so happy,' at
length gasped Honora, meeting an inquiring dart from the c