r a second she leant so heavily
on the girl's arm that Jacinth feared she was going to faint, 'it must
be he--my nephew--he is so, so _wonderfully_ like my father.'

And before Jacinth could reply, the old lady straightened herself again,
and drawing her arm away from her young guide, seemed to hurry forward
with a little cry.

'Are you Reginald?' she said. 'My nephew? You must be. Oh Reginald, I am
your old Aunt Myrtle.'

And then--all the plans and formalities were set at naught. The two tall
figures enfolded each other in an embrace like that of an aged mother
and a long absent son.

'Aunt Myrtle, my dear aunt!' Jacinth heard the kind, cheery voice
exclaim, though in accents broken by sudden emotion. 'You who have been
so good to us, to whom I owe my life. But this--this coming yourself is
the kindest of all.'

Then Jacinth turned and fled--fled down a path leading somewhere or
nowhere, till she found herself at the other side of the house, and ran
full tilt against Bessie, who was coming out to see what was happening.
For sounds carried far in the clear frosty air, and visitors were an
event at the little St Remi villa.

'Jacinth,' she exclaimed, catching hold of the flying girl, 'what is
it?'

'Oh Bessie, it's everything--everything beautiful and wonderful. But we
mustn't interrupt them. Take me into the house and call Camilla and your
mother, and I'll explain it all.'

* * * * *

That was the beginning, but by no means the end. Far from it indeed. For
even if Jacinth lives to be a very old woman, I think she will always
look back upon the next few weeks at Basse--the weeks before the Harpers
returned to England, which they did before the doctors considered it
quite safe for Lady Myrtle to face the northern spring--as among the
happiest she ever knew. There were several reasons for this. There was
the great and unselfish pleasure of seeing the quiet restful content on
her dear old friend's face, and knowing that in some measure she had
been the means of bringing it there; there was the delight of writing
home with the news of the happy state of things that had come about, and
receiving her full meed of sympathy and appreciation from her father and
mother and faithful little Frances; and lastly, there was the, to
Jacinth, really new pleasure of thoroughly congenial companionship of
her own age. For at school her habit of reserve and self-dependence had
come in the way of he