she remembered, since the day when he had asked her to be
his friend.

CHAPTER XX.

AN ELDER BROTHER.

She did not say a word to Nora about her scheme. The next day--it was
the third of January, as she afterwards remembered--was bright and
clear, a good day for walking. She told her sisters that she had
business abroad, and gave them the directions respecting the care of
their house and their mother that she thought they needed; then set
forth to walk briskly from Gwynne Street to the old Red House.

She purposely chose the morning for her expedition. She was not making a
call--she was going on business. She did not mean to ask for Mrs. Brand
even, first of all; she intended to ask for Mr. Cuthbert Brand. Wyvis
would probably be out; but Cuthbert, with his sedentary habits and his
slight lameness, was more likely to be at home painting in the brilliant
morning light than out of doors.

It was nearly twelve o'clock when she reached her destination. She went
through the leafless woods, for that was the shortest way and the
pleasantest--although she had thought little of pleasantness when she
came out, but still it was good to hear the brittle twigs snap under her
feet, and note the slight coating of frost that made the rims of the
dead leaves beautiful--and it was hardly a surprise to her to hear a
child's laugh ring out on the air at the very spot where, months before,
she and Nora had found little Julian Brand. A moment later the boy
himself came leaping down the narrow woodland path towards her with a
noisy greeting; and then--to Janetta's vexation and dismay--instead of
nurse or grandmother, there emerged from among the trees the figure of
the child's father, Wyvis Brand. He had a healthier and more cheerful
look than when she saw him last: he was in shooting coat and
knickerbockers, and he had a gun in his hand and a couple of dogs at his
heels. He lifted his hat and smiled, as if suddenly pleased when he saw
her, but his face grew grave as he held out his hand. Both thought
instinctively of their last meeting at her father's grave, and both
hastened into commonplace speech in order to forget it.

"I am glad to see you again. I hope you are coming to our place," he
said. And she--

"I hope Mrs. Brand is well. Is she at home?"

"No, she's not," said little Julian, with the frank fearlessness of
childhood. "She's gone out for the whole day with Uncle Cuthbert, and
father and I are left all by ourselv