at the right moment. In the large drawing-room of
Lonstead Abbey, Lady Vinsear was sitting with no companion but the
orphan girl of a villager, to whom she gave a home, and who was amusing
herself with a picture-book on a low stool by the fire; for though it
was summer, the fire was lighted to give cheerfulness to the room. When
Miss Sprong married a neighbouring farmer, Lady Vinsear had given her a
handsome dowry, and refused ever to see her again, being in fact
heartily tired of her malice and sycophancy, and above all, resenting
the new breach which she had caused between herself and her brother's
family. Ever since her quarrel with Julian, Lady Vinsear had bitterly
regretted the violence which had cut off from her that natural affection
to which she had looked as the stay of her declining years. She had
grown sadder as she grew older, and the loneliness of her life weighed
heavily on her heart, yet in her obstinate pride she made an unutterable
resolve never to take the initiative in restoring Julian to her favour.

And as she sat there by the fire, longing in her secret soul for the
society and love of some young hearts of her own kith and kin, she
glanced away from the uninteresting little girl whom she had taken as a
protegee to the likeness of Julian's bright and thoughtful boyish
features, (which still, in spite of Miss Sprong, had retained a place
over the mantel-piece), and remembered the foolish little incident which
had led to her rejection of him as her heir. The tears started to her
eyes as she thought of it, and wished with all her heart that the two
gay and merry boys whose frolic had caused the _fracas_ were with her
once more. How much she should now enjoy the pleasant sound of their
young voices, and how gladly she would join in their unrestrained and
innocent laughter.

So when the bewildered James asked in his never-varying voice, "whether
Master Cyril and Frank Home might see her," Lady Vinsear fancied that
she was seeing in a dream the fulfilment of her unexpressed wishes, and
rubbed her eyes to see if she could really be wide awake.

"What's all this, James?--are you James, or am I in a dream?"

"James, your ladyship."

"And do you really mean to tell me that my nephews are outside?"

"Yes, please your ladyship."

"Well, then, don't keep them there a minute longer, James. Run along,
Annie," she said to the little girl, "it is time for you to be in bed."

Annie had hardly retired,