s, strikingly like
their father. Willie, who was now fifteen, was dressed as a sailor, for
he had already been three years in the navy, and was now at home for a
week's holiday, while Charlie, whom we last saw crying in his cradle,
was on his way to feed the pigs, and had just deposited his pail in
front of his mother to stop and look at her work.

"Is it nearly finished, mother?" asked Charlie.

The "it" was a smock made of very coarse linen, over which Mrs. Shelley
and another little pair of hands had been toiling hard every afternoon
for the last fortnight.

"Yes, if Fairy would only sit still and help me, we might finish it
before supper. Just call her, Willie, I can't think what the child is
doing; she is in her own room," replied Mrs. Shelley, who is now a
comely woman of six or seven and thirty, and has apparently had but few
sorrows, as not a wrinkle marks her smooth forehead, nor has a single
grey hair yet made its appearance among her bright brown locks.

"Well, whether it is finished or not, Jack will never wear it, I am
sure, so I hope I shall have it handed over to me," said Charlie.

"Nonsense, Charlie, pray don't say anything of the kind before Jack.
Your father will insist on his wearing it, and as Fairy has made a great
deal of it, I hope we shall persuade him to put it on to-morrow," said
Mrs. Shelley, rather anxiously, for she was by no means so sure as she
professed to be that Jack would condescend to wear a smock.

"I know he won't, mother; but what has Fairy got in her hand? Oh, my
goodness me, what is that fine thing, Fairy?" asked Charlie, as, in
answer to Willie's repeated shouts, Fairy made her appearance.

She was a tall, slight child, straight as a dart, still rather fragile
in appearance, but with a healthy pink in her cheeks that did credit to
Sussex air and living. Her hair was long, and floated about in the
summer breeze in great waves of gold, the long silky tresses reaching
below her waist. In striking contrast to this golden hair and fair pink
and white complexion were her great brown eyes, with their long, dark
lashes and delicately, though firmly, pencilled eyebrows. The rest of
her features were nothing out of the common way, but her fair hair and
dark eyes and brilliant complexion would at once have attracted
attention, if, young as she was, she had not already been one of those
people who can't come into a room without making their presence felt.
The name little Jack--no lo