this little commonplace conversation had much more interest
than those who were speaking could have any idea of. It puzzled him
sorely too, for it seemed to tell such a different tale from the one
Elsie had put together. He was watching Elsie closely, wondering what
she could say to it. It was not so much what she had said that made
Duncan uncomfortable as the way she said it. "Just as if she was our
mother!" he thought to himself. "And then the letter said 'weak and
delicate,' an' after all we was stronger babies than Robbie--leastways,
Elsie was, and father used to be so proud of her. Elsie must have made a
mistake. I feel quite sure she has."

Perhaps Elsie guessed what he was thinking, for the first moment they
were alone she whispered to Duncan, "I can see through it," in a tone of
so much confidence that Duncan was unsettled again. "D'you think I can't
see through that?" Elsie said, contemptuously. "She talks like that o'
purpose to misguide us an' every one else that comes near. She makes
believe she's our mother always, even to granny, who knows she isn't,
for fear anybody should get thinkin' about it. Besides, I doubt not we
grew strong after a bit, maybe; an' if we ain't the babies, I'd like to
know where they are."

"P'raps they was fetched away again after a bit."

"You've always got an answer ready, for all you look so stupid," Elsie
said, crossly. "When did they go away, I'd like to know? Can you
remember? I can't; an' I can call to mind as long ago as when Robbie was
the baby, an father died."

To this Duncan could certainly find no reply. He himself had not the
faintest recollection of any other babies than Robbie, and of course
Elsie could remember better than he. He could not prove Elsie wrong, and
yet he could not bring himself to realise that such a strange thing had
been going on all these years in such a quiet, unnoticeable way--that
Mrs. MacDougall could seem so exactly like a mother to them, and yet not
be one. He was in a state of bewilderment, in which he could neither
believe nor disbelieve, and so he went to sleep with a weary sigh, and
left the mystery to unravel itself.

Not so Elsie. Her thoughts were very busy as she lay awake in her little
room. At last a happy idea seemed to strike her. "Yes, that'll be the
very time," she said softly to herself, and then settled herself to
sleep.

CHAPTER V.--"THE VERY TIME."

Several days passed away, in which Elsie said nothing more to Dunc