ore?'

'No,' said Miss Mildmay. 'I am a very, an exceedingly busy person, and I
rarely leave home, and never have visitors. So, though my brother's
children have been so many years in England, they might have been as
many more without our meeting, but for--these unforeseen circumstances.'

It seemed as if some less vague expression had been on her lips, but
glancing round, she had caught sight of a tremulous flutter amidst the
black garments of the two girls seated beside her--the elder stretching
out her hand to clasp her sister's. Miss Alison Mildmay dreaded 'scenes'
of all things; possibly, too, she felt conscious that her words sounded
harsh. For she added quickly, 'Of course, I don't count these young
folk as visitors. I hope they will very soon feel quite at home here,
and no doubt we shall fall into each other's ways nicely.'

The little speech cost her an effort; but she was rewarded for it.
Marmaduke Denison could not restrain an audible sigh of relief.

'Thank you,' he said, with what sounded almost exaggerated fervour,
'thank you so much. It is--it has been very good of you to--to arrange
as you have done. I assure you my sister and Mildmay appreciate it
thoroughly.'

A shade of stiffness returned again to her manner.

'I quite understand my brother,' she said coldly. And though Uncle Marmy
was too deeply in earnest to mind the snub, he wished he had answered
less effusively.

'Do you think Eugene is like his father?' he said quietly, drawing
forward the little fellow, who had been standing somewhat in the
background.

The aunt's face softened again. And truly the boy was a pleasant object
for her eyes to rest upon. He was very fair as to hair and complexion,
though his eyes were dark and wistful; he was an extremely pretty child.

'Yes,' she said more cordially than she had yet spoken. 'He is like
Frank, but he has his mother's eyes.'

Again the feeling of relief stole over the young man.

'She can't be so cold as she seems,' he reflected. 'I fancy I could get
on with her, and I daresay Francie and Eugene will. It is Jacinth I am
anxious about.' And he glanced at the elder girl, as the thought passed
through his mind. So far neither she nor her sister had spoken. Jacinth
sat there with a grave, almost expressionless face, her lips compressed
in a way which her uncle knew well. And suddenly he became aware of a
curious thing. It almost made him smile. This was an undoubted
resemblance between his