s it was evidently
expected; she raised her eyes to his face, and said, smiling' and
blushing, "I am sure I ought to know you, but I am afraid I don't."

"Look again," said Norman. "See if you have ever seen him before."

Laughing, glancing, and casting down her eyes, she raised them with a
sudden start of joy, but colouring more deeply, said, "Indeed, I cannot
remember. I dare say I ought."

"I think you see a likeness," said Norman.

"Oh, yes, I see," she answered, faltering; but perceiving how bright
were the looks of both, "No? Impossible! Yes, it is!"

"Yes, it is," said both brothers with one voice. She clasped her hands,
absolutely bounded with transport, then grasped both Harry's hands,
and then Norman's, her whole countenance radiant with joy and sympathy
beyond expression.

"Dear, dear Dr. May!" was her first exclamation. "Oh, how happy you must
all be! And Margaret?" She looked up at Norman, and came nearer. "Is not
Mr. Ernescliffe come?" she asked softly, and trembling.

"No," was the low answer, which Harry could not bear to hear, and
therefore walked to the window. "No, Meta, but Margaret is much
comforted about him. He died in great peace--in his arms"--as he signed
towards his brother. And as Harry continued to gaze out on the stars of
gas on the opposite side of the park, he was able to add a few of the
particulars.

Meta's eyes glistened with tears, as she said, "Perhaps it would have
been too perfect if he had come; but oh, Norman! how good she is to bear
it so patiently! And how gloriously he behaved! How can we make enough
of him! And Flora out! how sorry she will be!"

"And she never opened Mary's letter," said Harry, coming back to them.

"She little thought what it contained," said Meta. "Mary's letters are
apt to bear keeping, you know, and she was so busy, that she laid it
aside for a treat after the day's work. But there! inhospitable wretch
that I am! you have had no dinner!"

A refection of tea and cold meat was preferred, and in her own pretty
manner Meta lavished her welcomes, trying to cover any pain given by
Flora's neglect.

"What makes her so busy?" asked Harry, looking round on the beautifully
furnished apartment, which, to many eyes besides those fresh from a
Milanesian hut, might have seemed a paradise of luxurious ease.

"You don't know what an important lady you have for a sister," said Meta
merrily.

"But tell me, what can she have to do? I thought you London lad