id Stephen to his cousin. "Do you know me?"

"Why, is it Stephen? Are you come back? I _am_ glad to see you."

When the natural curiosity and interest of each was somewhat satisfied,
Stephen asked Derette's advice as to going further.

"You may safely go to see Mother," said she, "if you can be sure of your
own tongue; for you will not meet Anania there. She has dislocated her
ankle, and is lying in bed."

"Poor soul! It seems a shame to say I'm glad to hear it; but really I
should like to avoid her at Aunt Isel's, and to be able to come away at
my own time from the Lodge."

"You have the chance of both just now."

Stephen thought he would get the worse interview over first. He
accordingly went straight on into Civil School Lane, which ran right
across the north portion of Christ Church, coming out just above Saint
Aldate's, pursued his way forward by Pennyfarthing Street, and turning
up a few yards of Castle Street, found himself at the drawbridge leading
to the porter's lodge where his brother lived. There were voices inside
the Lodge; and Stephen paused for a moment before lifting the latch.

"Oh dear, dear!" said a querulous voice, which he recognised as that of
Anania, "I never thought to be laid by the heels like this!--not a soul
coming in to see a body, and those children that ungovernable--Gilbert,
get off that ladder! and Selis, put the pitchfork down this minute! Not
a bit of news any where, and if there were, not a creature coming in to
tell one of it! Eline, let those buttons alone, or I'll be after--Oh
deary dear, I can't!"

Stephen lifted the latch and looked in. Anania lay on a comfortable
couch, drawn up by the fire; and at a safe distance from it, her four
children were running riot--turning out all her treasures, inspecting,
trying on, and occasionally breaking them--knowing themselves to be safe
from any worse penalty than a scolding, for which evidently they cared
nothing.

"You seem to want a bit of help this afternoon," suggested Stephen
coolly, collaring Selis, from whom he took the pitchfork, and then
lifting Gilbert off the ladder, to the extreme disapprobation of both
those young gentlemen, as they showed by kicks and angry screams.
"Come, now, be quiet, lads: one can't hear one's self speak."

"Stephen! is it you?" cried Anania incredulously, trying to lift herself
to see him better, and sinking back with a groan.

"Looks rather like me, doesn't it? I am sorry to find y