heon?"

"Never. I thought there were no Pyncheons left, except yourself and our
Cousin Jaffrey, the judge. And yet I seem to have heard the name of
Clifford Pyncheon. Yes, from my father, or my mother. But hasn't he been
dead a long while?"

"Well, well, child, perhaps he has," said Hepzibah, with a sad, hollow
laugh; "but in old houses like this, you know, dead people are very apt
to come back again. And, Cousin Phoebe, if your courage does not fail
you, we will not part soon. You are welcome to such a home as I can
offer you."

_III.--Miss Hepzibah's Guests_

The day after Phoebe's arrival there was a constant tremor in Hepzibah's
frame. With all her affection for a young cousin there was a recurring
irritability.

"Bear with me, my dear child!" she cried; "bear with me, for I love you,
Phoebe; and truly my heart is full to the brim! By-and-by I shall be
kind, and only kind."

"What has happened?" asked Phoebe. "What is it that moves you so?"

"Hush! He is coming!" whispered Hepzibah. "Let him see you first,
Phoebe; for you are young and rosy, and cannot help letting a smile
break out. He always liked bright faces. And mine is old now, and the
tears are hardly dry on it. Draw the curtain a little, but let there be
a good deal of sunshine, too. He has had but little sunshine in his
life, poor Clifford; and, oh, what a black shadow! Poor--poor Clifford!"

There was a step in the passage-way, above stairs. It seemed to Phoebe
the same that she had heard in the night, as in a dream. Very slowly the
steps came downstairs, and paused for a long time at the door.

Hepzibah, unable to endure the suspense, rushed forward, threw open the
door, and led in the stranger by the hand. At the first glance Phoebe
saw an elderly man, in an old-fashioned dressing gown, with grey hair,
almost white, of an unusual length. The expression of his countenance
seemed to waver, glimmer, and nearly to die away, and feebly to recover
itself again.

"Dear Clifford," said Hepzibah, "this is our Cousin Phoebe, Arthur's
only child, you know. She has come from the country to stay with us a
while, for our old house has grown to be very lonely now."

"Phoebe? Arthur's child?" repeated the guest. "Ah, I forget! No matter.
She is very welcome." He seated himself in the place assigned him, and
looked strangely around. His eyes met Hepzibah's, and he seemed
bewildered and disgusted. "Is this you, Hepzibah?" he murmured sadly.
"How changed!