He was my poor mother's only brother, and had been dearly loved by
her,--not as I had loved Charlie, perhaps; but they had been much to each
other, and he had always seemed nearer to me than Aunt Philippa, who was
my father's sister; perhaps because there was nothing in common between
us, and I had always been devoted to Uncle Max.

'Well, Ursula,' he said, pretending to look grave, but evidently far too
pleased to see me to give me a very severe lecture, 'what is the meaning
of this? Does Mrs. Garston allow young ladies under her charge to stroll
about Hyde Park in the twilight? or have you stolen a march on her,
naughty little she-bear?'

I drew my hand away with an offended air: when Uncle Max wished to tease
or punish me he always reminded me that the name of Ursula signified
she-bear, and would sometimes call me 'the little black growler'; and at
such times it was provoking to think that Sara signified princess. I have
always wondered how far and how strongly our baptismal names influence
us. Of course he would not let me walk beside him in that dignified
manner: the next instant I heard his clear hearty laugh, and then I
laughed too.

'What an absurd child you are! I was thinking over your letter as I
walked along. It did not bring me to London, certainly; I had business of
my own; but, all the same, I have walked across the Park this evening to
talk to you about this extraordinary scheme.'

But I would not let him go on. He was about to cross the road, so I took
his arm and turned him back. And there was the gray mist creeping up
between the trees, and the lamps glimmering in the distance, and the
faint pink glow had not yet died away.

'It is so quiet here,' I pleaded, 'and I could not get you alone for a
moment if we went in. Uncle Brian will be there, and Jill, and we could
not say a word. Aunt Philippa and Sara have gone to see Lesbia. I have
been driving with them all the afternoon. Sara has been shopping, and how
bored I was!'

'You uncivilised little heathen!' Then, very gravely, 'Well, how is poor
Lesbia?'

'Do not waste your pity on her,' I returned impatiently. 'She is as well
and cheerful as possible. Even Sara says so. She is not breaking her
heart about Charlie. She has left off mourning, and is as gay as ever.'

'You are always hard on Lesbia,' he returned gently. 'She is young,
my dear, you forget that, and a pretty girl, and very much admired.
It always seems to me she was very fond of