can't
generalize on these subjects, grandpa," said Miss Electra, with an air
of conviction.

The Rev. Dr. Jones stared, much as a hen might stare to see her own
ducklings take to the water. And then he turned to Emma Cavendish and
said:

"Whether animals have reason or not, my dear, _you_ had some reason for
interrupting me. Now what was it?"

"To ask you to read this, sir," said Miss Cavendish, putting her letter
in the hands of her uncle.

He took it and read it slowly through, muttering from time to time:

"Dear, dear, how distressing! Bless my soul alive! Well, well, well!"

And he glanced uneasily at Mary Grey, who fidgeted and flushed under his
observation.

At length he finished and folded the letter and returned it to Miss
Cavendish, with the inquiry:

"Well, my dear, what are you going to do in the premises?"

"I shall write immediately and ask my aunt to come here and make this
her home," answered Emma, promptly.

At these words Mary Grey started, caught her breath with a gasp, and
quickly whirled her chair around so as to bring her back to the light
and throw her face in deep shadow.

"What's the matter with you?" inquired Electra.

"The light makes my eyes ache; that is all. You know I have not quite
got rid of my cold yet," answered the widow in a low, faltering tone
that might have attracted the attention of Miss Cavendish had not that
young lady's thoughts been engaged with the subject of her letter.

"You will consult your grandmother before making this important addition
to the household, I presume?" inquired the old gentleman.

"Yes, of course; but I am certain beforehand of my dear grandma's
consent and co-operation in such an evident Christian duty," answered
Miss Cavendish.

And then she turned to her young friends, to whom she thought some
explanation was due, and she added:

"I have news in this letter that has much surprised and pained me. It is
from my aunt, Mrs. Fanning. She has lost her husband, and has suffered
very severe reverses of fortune. She is at this time alone in New York
City, and in failing health. I shall write for her to come and live with
us. And not to leave her a day in suspense, I shall telegraph from
Wendover to-morrow morning."

"I'm glad she's coming. The more the merrier," said Electra, gayly.

Mrs. Grey said nothing. She arose as if to leave the room, tottered
forward and fell to the floor in a dead swoon.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SIREN AND TH