face that ever delighted eyes of man and virile
heart of three-and-twenty. It is in such plain terms that one must
describe this noble creature; words in half-tones are unworthy of the
theme. Being introduced by Alice Urquhart, Guthrie Carey, in a sense,
expanded on the spot into a fresh stage, a larger scope of being, with
his unleaping recognition of her inspiring greatness. It seemed to him
that he had never looked upon a woman before. Lily, of course, had been
an angel. "I thought I should just strike lunch," she said, as she came
like a sunbeam into the dim, low-ceiled, threadbare, comfortable room
where the meal was ready. "I'm as hungry as a hunter, Mrs Urquhart."

The homely old woman uttered a cry of joy, and spread her arms. The
visitor, incarnate dignity, bent to the maternal caress with willing
affection, yet with the tolerant air of good-nature that does not run
to gush. The children gathered round her, and hung upon her, undeterred
by the fact that she had no kisses or fondlings for them. Jim stood
motionless, glowing at the back of his fixed eyes.

When the family had done greeting her, Guthrie was brought forward.

"This is Mr Carey, Deb, who--"

"Oh, yes, I know"--and the frank hand, large, strong and beautiful,
like every bit of her, went out to him as if she had really known
him--"it is on Mr Carey's account that I have come, to tell you that
you must bring him over to Redford at once."

"We were going to," said Alice; for it was the natural thing to take
every Five Creeks visitor to Redford as soon as possible. "I was
writing to you only this morning."

"Well, we just wanted to make sure. My father--you will excuse him for
not calling on you; he is not able to get about as he used, poor old
man--hears that you belong to a family at home which was very intimate
with his family when he was young. Do you come from Norfolk?"

"No," replied the sailor, still in his dream.

"Oh, dear, what a pity! He will be so disappointed. We have been
hearing about the Careys of Wellwood all our lives--never were such
people, apparently--and when he heard your name, and got the idea that
you were of the clan, nothing would do but that you must be fetched at
once, to talk to him about them. Aren't you even a second cousin, or
something?"

"My grandfather was born at Wellwood--"

"Ah, that's right! That's all we want. That makes you a Carey of
Wellwood, of course. I hope you know the place?" "I have seen it. Bu