olded in
her lap.

'That is the picture of my twin-brother,' I said softly, to arouse her.

To my surprise, she turned paler than ever, and her lips quivered.

'Your twin brother, yes; and you have lost him?' But here Miss Darrell
chimed in again:

'How very interesting! What a blessing photography is, to be sure? Do you
take well, Miss Garston? They make me a perfect fright. I tell my cousins
that nothing on earth will induce me to try another sitting. Why should I
endure such a martyrdom, if it be not to give pleasure to my friends?'

To my surprise, Miss Hamilton's voice interrupted her: it was a little
like her step-brother's voice, and had a slight hesitation that was not
in the least unpleasant. She spoke rather slowly: at least it seemed so
by comparison with Miss Darrell's quick sentences.

'Etta, we have not done what Giles told us. We hope you will come and
dine with us to-morrow. Miss Garston, without any ceremony.'

'Dear me, how careless of me!' broke in Miss Darrell, but her forehead
contracted a little, as though her cousin's speech annoyed her. 'Giles
gave the message to me, but we were talking so fast that I quite forgot
it. My cousin will have it that you are dull, and our society may cheer
you up. I do not hold with Giles. I think you are far too superior a
person to be afraid of a little solitude; strong-minded people like you
are generally fond of their own society; but all the same I hope you do
not mean to be quite a recluse.'

'We dine at seven, but I hope you will come as much earlier as you like,'
interposed Miss Hamilton. 'No one will be with us but Mr. Tudor.'

'You forget Mr. Cunliffe, Gladys,' observed Miss Darrell, in rather a
sharp voice. 'I am sure I do not know what the poor man has done to
offend you; but ever since last summer--' But here Miss Hamilton rose
with a gesture that was almost queenly, and her impassive face looked
graver than ever.

'I did not know you had invited Mr. Cunliffe, Etta, or I should certainly
have mentioned him. Good-bye, Miss Garston: we shall look for you soon
after six.'

There was something wistful in her expression; it seemed as though she
wanted me to come, and yet I was a complete stranger to her. I felt very
reluctant to dine at Gladwyn, but that look overruled me.

'I will try to come early,' was my answer, and then I drew back to let
them pass.

Miss Darrell bade me good-bye a little stiffly; something had evidently
put her out. As th