't Rosalind," he said.

Rosalind paused on the bottom step. "Why, yes, it is. Are you Uncle
Allan?"

"A great tall girl like you my niece? Pat's daughter? Impossible!" There
was a twinkle in his eye. Clearly, Uncle Allan was a tease.

"I suppose I shall have to be identified," said Rosalind, merrily.

"I begin to see a look of Pat about you." He came down the steps now and
took her hand. "Let's sit here and get acquainted," he said, leading the
way to the bench under the birch tree.

Two pairs of eyes, the brown and the gray, looked into each other steadily
and soberly for a few seconds, then a dimple began to make itself visible
in Rosalind's check, whereat the brown eyes twinkled again. "Well, what do
you think of me?" they asked.

"You aren't much like Great-uncle Allan," said Rosalind, laughing.

"Heavens! was that your idea of me? And I expected you to be a child of
tender age, although I should have known better. It is nearly fourteen
years since Pat went away."

"Uncle Allan, did you know my mother?" It was the first time Rosalind had
mentioned her mother since she had been in Friendship. She could not have
explained her silence any more than she could this sudden question.

"I did not know her, Rosalind. I wish I might have. I saw her once, and I
have never forgotten her face."

"I can remember her just a little, but father and Cousin Louis have told
me about her, and I have her picture."

"I think," said Uncle Allan, confidently, "that we are going to be
friends. Tell me how you like Friendship."

"I like it now. I was dreadfully lonely at first, till things began to
happen. Then there was Cousin Betty's tea party, where I met Belle and
Jack and the rest, and now--oh, I like it very much! It is a funny place.
Aunt Genevieve says you don't like it any better than she does."
Rosalind's tone was questioning.

"I believe it does seem rather a stupid old town," he acknowledged. "What
do you find interesting about it?"

"There is the magician and his shop; and the out of doors is so
beautiful--almost like the country; and the houses are different from
those in the city; and there is the will, and the lost ring." Rosalind
suddenly remembered her uncle's connection with the ring.

He did not seem to understand, for he asked, "What ring?" then added, "Oh,
you mean the Gilpin will. Who has told you about that?"

"Cousin Betty; and she told us the story of Patricia's ring, Uncle Allan,
don't you wish we