beg your pardon," said Uncle Geoff, with a comical
smile. "Come near the fire by all means. My niece and nephews are not
accustomed to be kept waiting, I see."

He pulled forward a big arm-chair to the fire as he spoke, and lifting
Racey up in his arms, popped him down in one corner of it. He was
turning back for Tom, but Tom glanced up at me again from under his
eyelids in the funny half-shy way he did when he was not sure of any
one. I took his hand and led him forward to the fire.

"Tom is quite big," I said. "He's never counted like a baby."

Again Uncle Geoff looked at me with his comical smile. I felt my face
get red again. I am ashamed to say that I was beginning to take quite a
dislike to Uncle Geoff.

"He's just as horrid as Mrs. Partridge," I said to myself. "I'm sure
mother wouldn't have left us here if she had known how they were going
to go on."

But aloud I said nothing.

Uncle Geoff himself sat down on the big arm-chair, and took Racey on his
knee.

"So you're to be the boys' little mother--eh, Audrey?" he began. "It's a
great responsibility, isn't it? You'll have a good deal to do to teach
_me_ my duty too, won't you?"

I did not answer, but I'm afraid I did not look very amiable. Uncle
Geoff, however, took no notice. He drew Tom gently forward, and as Tom
did not pull back at all, I let go his hand. Uncle Geoff made him stand
between his knees, and, placing a hand on each of his shoulders, looked
rather earnestly into his eyes. Tom fidgeted a little--he stood first on
one leg, and then on the other, and glanced round at me shyly; but still
he did not seem to mind it.

"He's his mother's boy," said Uncle Geoff, after a minute or two's
silence. "He has her pretty eyes."

That was a lucky remark. After all, Uncle Geoff must be much nicer than
Mrs. Partridge, I decided, and I drew a little nearer. Uncle Geoff
looked up at me.

"And you, Audrey?" he went on. "No, you're not like your mother."

"I'm not nearly as pretty," I said.

"You're more like your father," he continued, without noticing my
remark. "And Racey--who is he like? Where did you get that white skin,
and that golden--not to say red--hair, sir?" he said, laughing. "Whom
_is_ he like?"

"Like hisself," said Tom, smiling.

"Yes, that is quite certain," said Uncle Geoff. "And now, my friends,
having looked you all over, so that for the future I shall know which is
which, tell me how you are going to amuse yourselves to-day?"