hat they would no longer be children, and had to
march out again, crestfallen, musing on the march of time and the
mutability of things human--especially children."

"It's ridiculous," cried Mr. Fullerton. "I am always lecturing them
about it, but they go on growing just the same."

"And how they make you feel an old fogey before you know where you are!
And I thought I was quite a gay young fellow, upon my word!"

"You, my dear Chantrey! why you'd be a gay young fellow at ninety!" said
Mr. Fullerton.

The Professor laughed and shook his head.

"And so this is really my little playfellow!" he exclaimed, nodding
meditatively. "I remember her so well; a queer, fantastic little being
in those days, with hair like a black cloud, and eyes that seemed to
peer out of the cloud, with a perfect passion of enquiry. She used to
bewilder me, I remember, with her strange, wise little sayings! I always
prophesied great things from her! Ernest, too, I remember: a fine little
chap with curly, dark hair--rather like a young Italian, but with
features less broadly cast; drawn together and calmed by his northern
blood. Yes, yes; it seems but yesterday," he said, with a smile and a
sigh; "and now my little Italian is at college, with a bored manner and
a high collar."

"Oh, no; Ernest's a dear boy still," cried Hadria. "Oxford hasn't spoilt
him a bit. I do wish he was at home for you to see him."

"Ah! you mustn't hint at anything against Ernest in Hadria's presence!"
cried Mr. Fullerton, with an approving laugh.

"Not for the world!" rejoined the Professor. "I was only recalling one
or two of my young Oxford acquaintances. I might have known that a
Fullerton had too much stuff in him to make an idiot of himself in that
way."

"The boy has distinguished himself too," said Mr. Fullerton.

"Everyone says he will do splendidly," added the mother; "and you can't
think how modest he is about himself, and how anxious to do well, and to
please us by his success."

"Ah! that's good."

The Professor was full of sympathy. Hadria was astonished to see how
animated her mother had become under his influence.

They fell again to recalling old times; little trivial incidents which
had seemed so unimportant at the moment, but now carried a whole epoch
with them, bringing back, with a rush, the genial memories. Hadria
remembered that soon after his last visit, the Professor had married a
beautiful wife, and that about a year or so later, the