going to bow again,
when a little affected laugh, and a 'Ma foi! he doesn't know me, Miss
Simpson,' proclaimed the fairy to be his sister Netta.

'Owen, you naughty boy, not to know me,' the little thing continued,
more naturally, running up to her brother, who took her, despite
muslins, laces, and ribbons, almost up in his big arms, and kissed her.

'How you have rumpled me, Owen? did you ever see such a thing, Miss
Simpson?' she cried, half laughing, half in tears, as she smoothed down
the point-lace sleeves and collar.

Just then a tall man entered, and Netta disengaging herself from Owen,
who was on the point of kissing her again, and asking her what she had
done to herself, simpered out an introduction between 'Captain Dancy and
my brother, Captain Prothero.'

'Not quite that yet,' began Owen, anxious to disclaim the captaincy,
when he was interrupted by the entrance of one or two other men, who
were, in their turn, named to him as Sir Samuel Spendall and Mr Deep.
Owen did not like their appearance and looked towards his really lovely
little sister, to see how she received them. Her manners had a mixture
of affectation and simplicity that was rather taking than otherwise. And
Owen wondered how Howel could leave one so young and pretty amongst
three men of the world, which he soon discovered his new acquaintances
to be. True, Miss Simpson was with her, and in the middle of breakfast,
to which, in due time, they sat down, another lady came upon the scene,
by name Madame Duvet, who turned out to be the English widow of a
Frenchman. She was young, handsome, but over-bold for the taste of a man
who was in love with Gladys.

She was at once taken with Owen's handsome face, and talked to him
incessantly, whilst Captain Dancy seated himself near Netta, and devoted
himself to her much more closely than Owen liked. However, he was very
hungry, and managed to make a good breakfast.

He heard Netta telling Captain Dancy that her brother had been at sea
all his life, and knew nothing of the fashionable world; at which he
thought the ham he was eating would have choked him, in his effort to
repress a laugh. He longed very much to knock down one of the
'Jeames's,' who would stand gazing at him, and did so far betray his
indignation, as to ask him, when he came behind his chair, whether he
saw anything remarkable in his appearance, which so amused Madame Duvet,
that she exclaimed '_Charmant! brava!_ you make me _crever de ri