ooked surprised and startled; he bent his head
in involuntary salute, and glanced down at the tiny arm offered for his
support. Six foot two he stood in his stockinged feet, and there was
this scrap of a girl offering her little doll-like arm for support! His
lips twitched, and Pixie pounced on the meaning with her usual agility.

"But I'm wiry," she announced proudly. "You wouldn't believe my
strength till you try it. Just for a few yards. ... Round the corner
by the oak-tree. _Please_!"

"You are too kind. I am not ill, but the walk from the station is very
steep and I found it tiring, that's all. I shall be glad to rest for a
moment, but I assure you no help is needed."

He took a step forward as he spoke, a quick, halting step, and Pixie
looking on, exclaimed sharply--

"_The Runkle_! Stanor's Runkle! It is _You_!"

The stranger looked down sharply, his dark brows puckering in
astonishment.

"I am Stephen Glynn--`The Runkle,' as my nephew is pleased to call me.
But you--you cannot be--"

Pixie nodded vehemently.

"I _am_!--Pixie O'Shaughnessy. Going to be your niece. I made Stanor
write to tell you.--"

They seated themselves on the bench under the oak-tree, and turning,
faced each other in a long, curious silence, during which each face
assumed a puzzled expression.

"But you are younger than I expected!" cried Pixie.

"That is exactly what I was on the point of saying to _you_," returned
Mr Glynn.

"And yet we know exactly how old we both are--twenty and thirty-five!"
Pixie continued volubly. "But you know how it is with young men--they
have no patience to explain! You'd be amused if you could see the image
I'd made of you in my own mind. I expect 'twas the same with yourself?"

"It was," agreed Mr Glynn, and for a moment imagined that his
disappointment was his own secret--only for a moment, however, then
Pixie tilted her head at him with a sideways nod of comprehension.

"Knowing, of course, that I was a sister of the beautiful Mrs Hilliard!
No wonder you are disappointed!" The eyes smiled sympathy at him, and
the wide lips parted in the friendliest of smiles. "You'll like me
better when you know me!"

"I--I am quite sure," stammered Mr Glynn, and then drew himself up
suddenly, as if doubtful if agreement were altogether polite under the
circumstances. Once more his lips twitched, and as their eyes met he
and Pixie collapsed together into an irresistible laugh. He laughed
w