as not like any English
gentleman. He wore no gaieties like Eustace, the handkerchief loosely
knotted round his neck sailor fashion was plain black, and he had a
gold ring on his little finger.

Dora had the same yellow curly hair, in tight, frizzly rings all over
her head, like a boy's, a light complexion, and blue eyes, in a round,
pug-nosed face; and she hung so entirely on Harold that I never doubted
that she was his sister till, as we were sitting down to eat, I said,
"Can't you come a little way from your brother?"

Eustace gave his odd little giggle, and said, "There, Dora!"

"I'm not his sister--I'm his wife!"

"There!" and Eustace giggled again and ordered her away; but I saw
Harold's brow knit with pain, and as she began to reiterate her
assertion and resist Eustace, he gently sat her down on the chair near
at hand, and silently made her understand that she was to stay there;
but Eustace rather teasingly said:

"Aunt Lucy will teach you manners, Dora. She is my sister, and we have
brought her home to send her to school."

"I won't go to school," said Dora; "Harold would not."

"You won't get away like him," returned Eustace, in the same tone.

"Yes, I shall. I'll lick all the girls," she returned, clenching a
pair of red mottled fists that looked very capable.

"For shame, Dora!" said the low voice.

"Harold did," said she, looking up at me triumphantly; "he beat all the
boys, and had to come back again to Boola Boola."

I longed to understand more, but I was ashamed to betray my ignorance
of my near relations, for I did not even know whether their mothers
were alive; but I saw that if I only listened, Eustace would soon tell
everything. He had a runaway chin, and his mouth had a look at times
that made me doubt whether there were not some slight want in his
intellect, or at least weakness of character. However, I was relieved
from the fear of the vice with which the neighbourhood had threatened
us, for neither of them would touch wine or beer, but begged for tea,
and drank oceans of it.

We had not long finished, when Richardson brought me a note from Lady
Diana Tracy, saying she had sent the carriage for me that I might at
once take refuge from this unforeseen invasion.

I felt it out of all possibility that I should thus run away, and yet I
knew I owed an apology for Harold's finding me and the old servants in
possession, so I began to say that my old friend had sent the carriage
for me