p and dreamless sleep. He slept far
into a bright morning, and when the doctor came he pronounced his
little patient as convalescent.

"You may get up to-morrow, and we shall have you out with the otter
hounds on Saturday, my little man," he said with a kind smile.

Jeff's eyes sought Mr. Colquhoun's face with an eager look of inquiry.

"We will see, Jeff"--he called him Jeff for the first time--"but you
must make haste and get well."

And Jeff did get well and rode right bravely. Better sport was never
seen.

CHAPTER VI.

Jeff was now ten years old, for nearly two years have gone by since he
came to England. He has grown very much, and is a tall muscular boy,
with a bright smiling face; only when he is alone or unconscious of
observation he is sometimes subdued, and there is a yearning wistful
look in his big brown eyes that seems to declare he is not quite happy.

"You have news from India to-day, Geoffry," said Uncle Hugh one morning
rather stiffly as he met the boy coming down the stairs with a letter
in his hand. "Your Aunt Annie has also had a letter from your mother."

Jeff looked rather as if he had been crying, and his voice trembled a
little when he answered Mr. Colquhoun:

"Yes, there is news. _She_ is coming--_at last_. But oh, she is ill!"

Jeff nearly broke down here. "Uncle Hugh, I may go to London and meet
her next week."

The passionate pleading of the boy's voice in the last words was
indescribable.

He had grown used to negatives presented to his requests during his
stay at Loch Lossie, but this was a widely different and an urgent
matter.

"I think, my boy, it will be better not. Your aunt has fully discussed
the matter with me, and she does not wish it. She thinks that her
meeting with her sister will be a painful one; she did not part on very
friendly terms with your mother. A reconciliation will be more
pleasant at Loch Lossie."

Jeff coloured deeply. He knew what all this meant. Uncle Hugh's
carefully-worded speech was clear to him.

"Yes, I know--Sandy told me. You and Aunt Annie did not want her to
marry father, because he was poor and only a soldier in a marching
regiment. You were all unkind to her about it and made her very
unhappy; but she did not care for money and a grand house--and--and she
loved father. She is very happy with him--we were all happy together
till I had to be sent home. Think of it only, Uncle Hugh, two whole
years without seeing