fe-size casts from the antique gleamed from
their corners.

From these rapid observations Audrey concluded that Miss Haviland was
poor.

"You were busy when I came in?" she asked sweetly.

"No; I was only taking a hurried sketch from the life. It's not often
that our landlady exhibits herself in that sublime mood; so I seized the
opportunity."

"And I interrupted you."

"No; you interrupted Mrs. Rogers, for which we were much obliged--she
might have sat for us longer than we liked. I am very pleased to see
you."

Certainly Audrey was a pleasant sight. There was no critical
afterthought in the admiring look which Miss Haviland turned on her
visitor, and Audrey felt to her finger-tips this large-hearted feminine
homage. To compel another woman to admire you is always a triumph;
besides, Miss Haviland was an artist, and her admiration was worth
something--it was like having the opinion of an expert. Audrey pondered
for a moment, with her head at a becoming angle, for she had not yet
accounted for herself.

"My cousin Vincent Hardy asked me to call on you. I believe he is a very
old friend of yours?"

"Yes; we have known each other since we were children."

"What do you think of his going out to Canada to farm?"

"I didn't know he had gone."

(Then Vincent had not thought it worth while to say good-bye to his
"little half-sister." So far, so good.)

"Oh, didn't you? He went six weeks ago."

"I never heard. It's an unlikely thing for him to do, but that's the
sort of thing he always did do."

"He hated going, poor fellow. He came to say good-bye to me the night
before he went, and he was in a dreadful state. I've heard from him
every week since he sailed, and he's promised to send me some
bearskins. Isn't it nice of him?" ("She won't like _that_!")

Miss Haviland assented gravely, but her eyes smiled.

"I suppose you've seen a good deal of Vincent? He wrote to me about you
from the Rocky Mountains."

"Did he? We used to be a good deal together when we were little. Since
then we have been the best of friends, which means that we ignore each
other's existence with the most perfect understanding in the world. I
always liked Vincent."

This was reassuring. Miss Haviland's manner was candour itself; and
depend upon it, if there had been any self-consciousness about her,
Audrey would have found it out at once. She dropped the subject, and
looked about her for another. The suggestions of the place were obvi