But what has put it into your
head?--fancied likeness to your sister or Tom, eh?"

"No, not so much that, as the fact that she told Niven last night that
her name is Emmie."

"That's not Emma," said Gildart.

"It is what I used to call my sister, however; and besides that there is
a seaman named Stephen Gaff, who, I find, has turned up somewhat
suddenly and unaccountably last night from Australia. He says he has
been wrecked; but he is mysterious and vague in his answers, and do what
I will I cannot get rid of the idea that there is some connexion here."

"It is anxiety, my boy, that has made you think in this wild fashion,"
said Gildart. "Did I not hear Mrs Niven say that the child gave her
name as Emmie Wilson?"

"True, I confess that the name goes against my idea; nevertheless I
cannot get rid of it, so I mean to canter to-day down to Cove, where
Gaff stays, and have a talk with him. We can go together by the road
along the top of the cliffs, which is an exceedingly beautiful one.
What say you?"

"By all means: it matters nothing to me what course you steer, so long
as we sail in company. But pray don't let the fascinating Lizzie detain
you too long. Oh! you need not laugh as if you were invulnerable. I'll
engage to say that you'll not come away under an hour if you go into the
house without making me a solemn promise to the contrary."

"Why, Gildart, it strikes me that _you_ must be in love with your
fascinating cousin from the way in which you speak."

"Perhaps I am," said the middy, with a tremendous sigh; "but come, here
we are, and the horses at the door before us; they must have been
brought round by the other road. Now, then, promise that you'll not
stay longer than half an hour."

Kenneth smiled, and promised.

On entering my residence, which had been named, by Mrs Bingley's
orders, "Bingley Hall," the young men found my pretty niece coming down
the staircase in that most fascinating of all dresses, a riding-habit,
which displayed her neat and beautifully rounded figure to perfection.
Lizzie could not be said to blush as she bowed acknowledgment to
Kenneth's salutation, for a blush, unless it were a _very_ deep one,
usually lost itself among the blush roses that at all times bloomed on
her cheek; but she smiled with great sweetness upon the stalwart youth,
and informed him that, having just been told that John Furby was still
suffering from the effects of his recent accident, she had orde