as she and her brothers were, and might endanger
the safety of the young party by some sudden movement. Marjorie was to
remember how easily a boat was upset.

Estelle had never till now lived near the sea-coast. Her life had been
spent in the Highlands of Scotland, at her father's old castle, Lynwood
Keep. Her uncle, Colonel De Bohun, had often begged the Earl of Lynwood
to allow her to spend her holidays with her cousins, but the Earl could
not bear to part with his little girl even for so short a time. Instead,
he gladly welcomed the little cousins to Lynwood Keep, where Estelle was
allowed to do everything she desired for their pleasure and
entertainment.

The great sorrow of his life, the loss of his young wife when Estelle
was five years old, had changed him completely. From being a cheerful,
open-hearted, open-handed man, he had become silent and reserved, seldom
seeing anybody, and keeping aloof even from his brother's children when
they paid their yearly visit to Estelle, and the delights of her
Highland home.

To only one person did he unbend. Estelle had become all in all to him.
He felt he could not do enough for her. He must be both father and
mother to the little motherless child, and to him she must look for
everything. Except when she was at her lessons, he loved to have her
with him, and wherever he went, on visits to his tenants, or walking
over the property, she was always his little shadow, as well known and
beloved as he. In the evenings they would sit together, talking over
their uneventful day, or recalling that memory of wife and mother which
was so sacred and so tender to them both, and which Lord Lynwood desired
should never fade from his little girl's mind.

Such a life was by no means a healthy one for Estelle, as Lord Lynwood's
aunt, Lady Coke, discovered during her visits to Lynwood Keep. She
noticed how sensitive and excitable Estelle was growing. If Lord Lynwood
came down in the morning looking worn and depressed, Estelle would watch
him for a few minutes, and unconsciously put on the same look. Slipping
her hand into his, and gazing up into his face with sympathetic eyes,
she only increased his gloom; Lady Coke saw it, and felt sorry for them
both. Any other child would have been spoilt by the indulgence which
gratified every wish, but Estelle's gentleness and her great desire to
be to her father all that her mother had been, prevented her from being
either selfish or naughty.

She