"You look as if you were meant to be put under a glass case!" said Ethel, surveying the little elegant figure, whose great characteristic was a look of exquisite finish, not only in the features and colouring, the turn of the head, and the shape of the small rosy-tipped fingers, but in everything she wore, from the braids of black silk hair, to the little shoe on her foot, and even in the very lightness and gaiety of her movements.

"Oh, Ethel!" cried Meta, springing up in dismay, and looking at herself in the glass. "What is the matter with me? Do tell me!"

"You'll never get rid of it," said Ethel, "unless you get yourself tattooed! Even separation from Bellairs hasn't answered. And, after all, I don't think it would be any satisfaction to Norman or papa. I assure you, Meta, whatever you may think of it, it is not so much bother to be prettier than needful, as it is to be uglier than needful."

"What is needful?" said Meta, much amused.

"I suppose to be like Mary, so that nobody should take notice of one, but that one's own people may have the satisfaction of saying, 'she is pleasing,' or 'she is in good looks.' I think Gertrude will come to that. That's one comfort."

"That is your own case, Ethel. I have heard those very things said of you."

"Of my hatchet face!" said Ethel contemptuously. "Some one must have been desperately bent on flattering the Member's family."

"I could repeat more," said Meta, "if I were to go back to the Commemoration, and to the day you went home."

Ethel crimsoned, and made a sign with her hand, exclaiming, "Hark!"

"It went past."

"It was the omnibus. She must be walking down!" Ethel breathed short, and wandered aimlessly about; Meta put her arm round her waist.

"I did not think this would be so much to you," she said.

"Oh, Meta, it seems like dear mamma coming to see how we have been going on. And then papa! I wish I had gone up to the station with him."

"He has Richard."

"Ay, but I am afraid Margaret is listening and will be restless, and have a palpitation; and I can't go and see, or I shall disturb her. Oh, I wish it were over."

Meta stroked her, and soothed her, and assured her that all would do well, and presently they heard the click of the door. Ethel flew into the hall, where she stopped short, her heart beating high at the sound of overpoweringly familiar accents.

She was almost relieved by detecting otherwise little resemblance; the height was nearly the same, but there was not the plump softness of outline. Mrs. Arnott was small, thin, brisk and active, with a vivacious countenance, once evidently very fair and pretty, but aged and worn by toil, not trouble, for the furrows were the traces of smiles around her merry mouth, and beautiful blue eyes, that had a tendency lo laugh and cry both at once. Dr. May who had led her into the light, seemed to be looking her all over, while Richard was taking the wraps from her, and Ethel tried to encourage herself to go forward.

"Ay!" said the doctor, kissing her. "I see you, Flora, now. I have found you again."

"I found you as soon as I heard your voice, Richard," said she. "And now for the bairnies."

"Here is one, but there is but a poor show forthcoming to-night. Do you know her?"

There was an unspeakable joy in being pressed in Aunt Flora's arms, like a returning beam from the sunshine of seven years ago.

"This must be Ethel! My dear, how you tower above me--you that I left in arms! And," as she advanced into the drawing-room--"why, surely this is not Margaret!"

"A Margaret--not the Margaret. I wish I were," said Meta, as Mrs. Arnott stood with an arm on her shoulder, in the midst of an embrace, Dr. May enjoying her perplexity and Meta's blushes. "See, Flora, these black locks never belonged to Calton Hill daisies, yet a daisy of my own she is. Can't you guess?"

"Miss Rivers!" exclaimed Mrs. Arnott; and though she kissed her cordially, Meta suspected a little doubt and disappointment.

"Yes," said Dr. May. "We change Mary for this little woman as Flora's lady-in-waiting, when she and her husband go out yachting and shooting."

"Flora and her husband! There's a marvellous sound! Where are they?"

"They are staying at Eccleswood Castle," said Ethel; "and Mary with them. They would have been at home to receive you, but your note yesterday took us all by surprise. Norman is away too, at a college meeting."

"And Margaret--my Margaret! Does not she come downstairs?"

"Ah! poor dear," said Dr. May, "she has not been in this room since that sultry day in July."

"The eighteenth," said Richard; the precision of the date marking but too well the consciousness that it was an epoch.

"We can keep her quieter upstairs," said Dr. May; "but you must not see her to-night. She will enjoy you very much to-morrow; but excitement at night always does her harm, so we put her to bed, and told her to think about no one."

Mrs. Arnott looked at him as if longing, but dreading, to ask further, and allowed her nephew and niece to seat her at the table, and attend to her wants, before she spoke again. "Then the babies."

"We don't keep babies, Gertrude would tell you," said Dr. May. "There are three great creatures, whom Ethel barbarously ordered off to bed.

Ethel is master here, you must know, Flora--we all mind what she says."

"Oh, papa," pleaded Ethel, distressed, "you know it was because I thought numbers might be oppressive."

"I never dispute," said Dr. May. "We bow to a beneficial despotism, and never rebel, do we, Meta?"

Seeing that Ethel took the imputation to heart, Meta rejoined, "You are making Mrs. Arnott think her the strong-minded woman of the family, who winds up the clock and cuts the bread."

"No; that she makes you do, when the boys are away."

"Of course," said Ethel, "I can't be vituperated about hunches of bread.

I have quite enough to bear on the score of tea."

"Your tea is very good," said Richard.

"See how they propitiate her," maliciously observed the doctor.

"Not at all; it is Richard standing up for his pupil," said Ethel. "It is all very well now, with people who know the capacities of mortal tea; but the boys expect it to last from seven o'clock to ten, through an unlimited number of cups, till I have announced that a teapot must be carved on my tombstone, with an epitaph, 'Died of unreasonable requirements.'"

Mrs. Arnott looked from one to the other, amused, observant, and perceiving that they were all under that form of shyness which brings up family wit to hide embarrassment or emotion.

"Is Harry one of these unreasonable boys?" she asked. "My dear Harry--I presume Ethel has not sent him to bed. Is there any hope of my seeing him?"

"Great hope," said Dr. May. "He has been in the Baltic fleet, a pretty little summer trip, from which we expect him to return any day. My old Lion! I am glad you had him for a little while, Flora.

"Dear fellow! his only fault was being homesick, and making me catch the infection."

"I am glad you did not put off your coming," said Dr. May gravely.

"You are in time for the consecration," said Richard.

"Ah! Cocksmoor! When will it take place?"

"On St. Andrew's Day. It is St. Andrew's Church, and the bishop fixed the day, otherwise it is a disappointment that Hector cannot be present."