ikes doing kind things, and hates being thanked for it. I expected him
to meet me here to-day."

Catherine went to the window. "He is coming to meet you," she said.
"There is his yacht in the bay."

"And in a dead calm," Randal added, joining her. "The vessel will not
get here, before I am obliged to go away again."

Catherine looked at him timidly. "Do I drive you away?" she asked, in
tones that faltered a little.

Randal wondered what she could possibly be thinking of and acknowledged
it in so many words.

"She is thinking of the Divorce," Mrs. Presty explained. "You have heard
of it, of course; and perhaps you take your brother's part?"

"I do nothing of the sort, ma'am. My brother has been in the wrong from
first to last." He turned to Catherine. "I will stay with you as long as
I can, with the greatest pleasure," he said earnestly and kindly. "The
truth is, I am on my way to visit some friends; and if Captain Bennydeck
had got here in time to see me, I must have gone away to the junction
to catch the next train westward, just as I am going now. I had only two
words to say to the Captain about a person in whom he is interested--and
I can say them in this way." He wrote in pencil on one of his visiting
cards, and laid it on the table. "I shall be back in London, in a week,"
he resumed, "and you will tell me at what address I can find you. In the
meanwhile, I miss Kitty. Where is she?"

Kitty was sent for. She entered the room looking unusually quiet and
subdued--but, discovering Randal, became herself again in a moment, and
jumped on his knee.

"Oh, Uncle Randal, I'm so glad to see you!" She checked herself, and
looked at her mother. "May I call him Uncle Randal?" she asked. "Or has
_he_ changed his name, too?"

Mrs. Presty shook a warning forefinger at her granddaughter, and
reminded Kitty that she had been told not to talk about names. Randal
saw the child's look of bewilderment, and felt for her. "She may talk as
she pleases to me," he said "but not to strangers. She understands that,
I am sure."

Kitty laid her cheek fondly against her uncle's cheek. "Everything is
changed," she whispered. "We travel about; papa has left us, and Syd
has left us, and we have got a new name. We are Norman now. I wish I was
grown up, and old enough to understand it."

Randal tried to reconcile her to her own happy ignorance. "You have got
your dear good mother," he said, "and you have got me, and you have got
your toys