, or
had Miss Frances contrived to comfort him?

Miss Frances was very seldom mentioned in Cyril's frequent letters to
Kester. The boy used to bring them to Audrey to read with a glow of
satisfaction on his face.

'Cyril is awfully good,' he said once; 'he never used to write to me at
all; mother always had his letters. But look what a long one I have had
to-day--two sheets and a half--and he has asked such a lot of questions.
Please, do read it, Miss Ross; there are heaps of messages to
everybody.'

Audrey was quite willing to read it. As she took the letter, she again
admired the clear, bold handwriting. It was just like the writer, she
thought--frank, open, and straightforward. But as she perused it, a glow
of amusement passed over her face.

Mr. Blake's letters were very kind and brotherly, but were they only
intended for Kester's eyes? Were all those picturesque descriptions,
those clever sketches of character, those telling bits of humour, meant
solely for the delectation of a boy of sixteen? And, then, the series of
questions--what did they do all day when the weather was rainy, for
example? did Miss Ross always join the Doctor and Mr. Harcourt on their
fishing expeditions? and so on. Mr. Blake seldom mentioned her name,
although there were many indirect allusions to her; but Miss Frances was
scarcely ever mentioned. She was only classed in an offhand way with
'the Hackett girls' or 'the young ladies.' 'The Hackett girls went with
us; the two younger ones are famous walkers,' etcetera.

Sometimes there would be an attempt to moralise.

'I am getting sick of girls,' he wrote on this occasion. 'I will give
you a piece of brotherly advice, my boy: never have much to do with
them. Do not misunderstand me. By girls, I mean the specimens of young
ladies one meets at tennis-parties, garden-parties, and that sort of
thing. They are very pretty and amusing, but they are dangerous; they
seem to expect that a fellow has nothing else to do but to dangle after
them and pay them compliments. Even Miss F----. But, there, I will not
mention names. She is a good sort--a lively little soul; but she is
always up to mischief.'

Audrey bit her lips to keep from smiling as she read this passage, for
she knew Kester was watching her. It was one of the 'saft days' common
in the Highlands, and, not being ducks, the two households had remained
within doors. Dr. Ross and Michael were classifying butterflies and
moths in the den; M