baby," said John.

"Oh, no: I suppose if we all live long enough he will some time be
a--possibly disagreeable man, and punish us well for all the care we
have spent upon him," Elinor said.

"I don't want to make you angry, Elinor----"

"No, I don't suppose you do. You have been very nice to me, John. You
have neither scolded me nor given me good advice. I never expected you
would have been so forbearing. But I have always felt you must mean to
give me a good knock at the end."

"You do me great injustice," he said, much wounded. "You know that I
think only of what is best for you--and the child."

They were approaching the shore, and Mrs. Dennistoun's white cap was
visible in the waning light, looking out for them from the door. Elinor
said hastily, "And the child? I don't think that you care much for the
child."

"There you are mistaken, Elinor. I did not perhaps at first: but I
acknowledge that a little thing like that does somehow creep into one's
heart."

Her face, which had been gloomy, brightened up as if a sunbeam had
suddenly burst upon it. "Oh, bless you, John--Uncle John; how good and
how kind, and what a dear friend and brother you are! And I such a
wretch, ready to quarrel with those I love best! But, John, let me keep
quiet, let me keep still, don't make me rake up the past. He is such a
baby, such a baby! There cannot be any question of telling him anything
for years and years!"

"I thought you were lost," said Mrs. Dennistoun, calling to them. "I
began to think of all kinds of things that might have happened--of the
steamboat running into you, or the boat going on a rock, or----"

"You need not have had any fear when I was with John," Elinor said, with
a smile that made him warm at once, like the sun. He knew very well,
however, that it was only because he had made that little pleasant
speech about her boy.

CHAPTER XXXII.

There passed after this a number of years of which I can make no record.
The ladies remained at Lakeside, seldom moving. When they took a holiday
now and then, it was more for the sake of the little community which,
just as in Windyhill, had gathered round them, and which inquired,
concerned, "Are you not going to take a little change? Don't you think,
dear Mrs. Dennistoun, your daughter would be the better for a change? Do
you really think that a little sea air and variety wouldn't be good for
the boy?" Forced by these kind speeches they did go away now and then