cate baby?"

"Ah, yes indeed, ma'am; we did n't think to raise him till he was well
past three. Then he grew stout and rosy, and sturdy on his legs, the
saints be praised!"

A day or two later, the weather not allowing of walking, Philip felt
lonely, and sent for Arty to come and play with him. The child went,
and returned to the lodge at night quite loaded with playthings, the
gifts of the little lord and his mother. After this he was often sent
for from the Castle, and gradually became a decided favorite with Lord
and Lady Ellenwood, and consequently with all their retainers. As for
Philip, he soon grew devotedly fond of his peasant playmate, and
declared he could not live a day without him; and, as his will was
already law at the Castle, even this whim for a companionship quite
unsuited to his rank was indulged.

Norah O'Neill dressed her son in his best for those grand visits; but
even his holiday suit was soon pronounced too rude for his new
position, and an entire new wardrobe was provided for him. It was a
pretty page-like costume, and singularly becoming, so much so that Lady
Ellenwood, after regarding him with a pleased smile for some minutes,
remarked to Mrs. Marsham, "Really, that child has something superior
about him; I certainly should not take him for a peasant boy."

"Indeed, my lady, you surprise me. The child is well enough for an
O'Neill, but he lacks the _noble look_, after all. I can see the
common bird through all the 'fine feathers.' Only mark, my lady, the
vast difference between him and my little lord."

"Ah, yes, I can see that Philip is the more dainty and delicate, but
Arty is, in some respects, the handsomer child of the two; and, in
truth, I think he has quite a high-bred look. There is a certain
resemblance to my own family, which struck me when I first saw him. He
has decidedly a Cavendish nose, and I have heard my old nurse say that
my hair was once of that same golden auburn. I have never seen a child
of any rank that my heart has been so drawn towards as towards this
same little O'Neill. Surely we must do something for him."

This partiality for the lodge-keeper's child did not prove a mere fine
lady's passing freak. Like little Philip, she grew more and more fond
of little Arty; and when, after a six months' stay in Ireland, the
noble family returned to London, little Arthur, really though not
formally adopted, went with them. He received his earliest instruction