ck. Turning round, he looked questioningly at Eddie,
who had returned to the grounds. "Well," he cried, "what do you think?"

"I think Cousin Agnes is an ugly, sickly little thing, not more than
seven!" he cried scornfully. "The idea of a girl in blue spectacles!
Come and have a walk." For once Bertie followed instead of leading,
though he was strongly inclined to return to the house. He did not think
his cousin was ugly, and he pitied her for being so pale and
sad-looking; but somehow he felt disappointed too, and out of humour
with himself, and Eddie, and every one else, and in an unusually silent
mood he set off for a ramble in the woods. Both boys were disappointed
in Agnes, but in a different way.

CHAPTER II.--AGNES FINDS A FRIEND.

"I hope you will be very happy here, child, and make yourself at home.
Take care of her, Mittens, and see that the boys don't tease her;" and
Mr. Rivers kissed the trembling, nervous little girl on the forehead,
and waved her out of the room. The interview had been brief, and
conducted with absolute silence on the child's part. She was overpowered
by the magnificence and awed by the solemnity of her new home.

"Is that grand gentleman Uncle Hugh, ma'am?" she asked timidly, as she
clung to the good-natured housekeeper's hand.

"Yes, my dear; and very kind and good you will find him if you always do
just as he tells you. Now you must come to my room, and have a cup of
tea before dinner. Your cousins never have any luncheon, and dine with
me at three o'clock. Your Uncle Hugh always dines in his own apartments:
indeed, he seldom leaves them, except for a turn on the terrace. The
children go in every evening to see him for half an hour, and you will
go with them. We have breakfast at nine, and tea at seven. Your cousins
drive in to Wakeley every day to Doctor Mayson's school; they leave at
half-past nine, and get back by three. Sometimes they ride their ponies,
but oftener they drive in the little dog-cart; and I dare say a young
person will come to give you lessons, but the master has not made any
arrangement yet. You're to sleep in the room next to mine; and Prudence
Briggs, the under housemaid, will wait upon you. But the first thing you
must do, my dear Miss Agnes, is to get well, and strong, and rosy. You
have been ill, surely."

"No, ma'am, not worse than usual; but I have been up a good deal at
night with father."

"You up at night, child! Dear, dear! what could folk be thin