ed it."

"He does not look so hard," said the girl involuntarily.

"He _is_ hard, my dear--hard in his way--but he is a good son for all
that--and he has had sore trouble, which has made him seem harder and
sterner than he is. I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done
to-day."

"Oh, Mrs. Brand, I have done nothing," said Janetta, blushing at the
elder woman's praise. "But may I come to see you and little Julian
again? I should like so much to know how he gets on."

"You may come, dear, if your father will let you," said Mrs. Brand, with
rather a troubled look. "It would be a blessing--a charity--to me: but I
don't know whether it would be right to let you--your father must
decide."

And then Janetta took her leave.

She was surprised to find that Mr. Brand was lounging about the hall as
she came out, and that he not only opened the door for her but
accompanied her to the garden gate. He did not speak for a minute or
two, and Janetta, not seeing her way clear to any remarks of her own,
wondered whether they were to walk side by side to the gate in utter
silence. Presently, however, he said, abruptly.

"I have not yet heard to whom I am indebted for the appearance of that
little boy in my house."

"I am not exactly responsible," said Janetta, "I only found him outside
and brought him in to make inquiries. My name is Janetta Colwyn."

"Colwyn? What? the doctor's daughter?"

"Yes, the doctor's daughter," said Janetta, smiling frankly at him, "and
your second cousin."

Wyvis Brand's hand went up to his hat, which he lifted ceremoniously.

"I wish I had had the introduction earlier," he said, in a much
pleasanter tone.

Janetta could not exactly echo the sentiment, and therefore maintained a
discreet silence.

"You must have thought me a great brute," said Wyvis, with some
sensitiveness in his tone.

"Oh, no: I quite saw how difficult it was for you to understand who I
was, and how it had all come about."

"You saw a great deal, then."

"Oh, I know that it sounds impertinent to say so," Janetta answered,
blushing a little and walking a trifle faster, "but I did not mean it
rudely, I assure you."

He seemed to take no notice. He was looking straight before him, with a
somewhat sombre expression in his fine dark eyes.

"What you could not see," he said, perhaps more to himself than to her,
"was what no one will ever guess. Nobody knows what the last few years
have been to me. My mother has s