I suppose both
boys are there just now. After dinner I shall send for them. Claude
really seems better; he runs about again."

"Stay," said Mr Sherwood. "This reminds me that I brought a letter
last night for the new nursemaid; at least, I suppose so;" and he took a
letter from his pocket, and laid it on the table.

"You don't mean that you brought that home last night, and have kept it
till this time?" said Miss Gertrude, with much surprise.

"Tut, tut, my child!" said her father, touching the hand outstretched to
take the letter. She withdrew her hand without a word.

"You could not have been more indignant had the letter been for
yourself. It is not such a terrible oversight," said Mrs Lane, or Aunt
Barbara, as she was commonly called, who had looked in on her way from
church. "If it is like most of the letters of that sort of people, it
would be little loss though she never got it. Such extraordinary
epistles as I sometimes read for my servants!"

"This seems quite a respectable affair, however," said Mr Seaton,
reading the direction in Effie's fair, clear handwriting:

_Christina Redfern_,
_Care of J.R. Seaton, Esquire_.

"That is a very pretty direction--_very_."

"I am very sorry, and very much ashamed of my carelessness," said Mr
Sherwood. "I hope, Miss Gertrude, you will forgive me, and I will never
do so again, as little boys say."

But he did not look either very sorry or very much ashamed, Miss
Gertrude thought, and she made no reply. The rather uncomfortable
silence that followed was broken by a low voice at the door:

"Am I to take the children, Miss Gertrude?"

Master Clement answered:

"No, I shan't go to bed yet. It's only seven o'clock."

"Come in," said Mr Seaton, kindly. "I want to know how these little
fellows have behaved since their mother went away."

Christie came forward shyly, curtseying, in some confusion, to Mrs
Lane, whom her short-sighted eyes did not discern till she was close
upon her.

"I hope they have been good and obedient, and have not given you much
trouble?" said Mr Seaton again.

A little smile passed over Christie's mouth. "Master Clement is Miss
Gertrude's boy, sir," she said, as she stooped to buckle the belt of
that active young gentleman.

"And I'm very good. She punishes me when I ain't good."

"I'm afraid she has enough to do, then. And the doctor thinks Claude is
better, does he?" he asked, caressing the pale little face that lay