man, whose snow-white hair made
him appear at first sight much older than he was in reality, might have
been seen busy over a manuscript, whilst a fair girl sat beside him,
reading out to him the notes he had made, and which he was working into
the book he was writing. The two seemed to work in perfect harmony.

Rose's father had been the rector of a remote country parish in
Cornwall. Most of his friends said that he was lost in such a
neighbourhood, and that it was a shame to have sent so able a man to
such a parish; but Mr. Sinclair never complained himself; he may
sometimes have thought it strange that other men were chosen before him
to occupy positions which he felt conscious he might well have filled,
but as his lot was cast in that Cornish nook, he had thrown himself
heart and soul into whatever work he found to do. The affection he won
from the rough fisherfolk, who regarded him as the father of the parish,
whose joys and sorrows, cares and anxieties, were all well known to him,
was as much to him as any brilliant worldly success. His means were
small, too small for his generous heart. He wished to give as good an
education as possible to his two children, Henry and Rose, and devoted
much time and trouble to that end. For several years he taught the boy
and girl together himself, Rose learning much the same lessons as her
brother; this laid the foundation of the accuracy which characterised
her in any task she undertook--a quality often lacking in feminine work.

Mr. Sinclair had been a good student of natural history, and had written
books and magazine articles which had been well thought of. Rose tried
to follow her father's pursuit; she would spend hours in reading about
birds and butterflies, and in making little researches herself. One of
her greatest pleasures had been to help her father, either by taking
notes for him or by writing at his dictation. She hoped herself some day
to add to her pecuniary resources by writing for biological papers or
even by giving lectures.

But the happy home life in the Cornish rectory was to end all too
quickly. Rose lost both her parents within a short time of each other;
her brother was at Oxford, working hard; and Rose was left alone, and
had to leave the home which was so dear to her.

It was then that her uncle, Dr. Sinclair, without a moment's hesitation,
offered her a home in his house. He did not listen to warning voices,
cautioning him against burdening himself