t-toot, hoot-toot!" said her uncle. "No such nonsense, my dear. I
shall go to Norris's to-morrow morning and have it out with him. Ruined!
No, no. It'll be all right, you'll see. We'll go into it all, and you
have nothing to do but leave things to me. Now let us talk of pleasanter
matters. What a nice, pretty little house you've got! And what nice,
pretty little daughters! Good girls, too, or I'm uncommonly mistaken.
They're comforts to you, Alice, my dear, eh?"

"The greatest possible comforts," answered the mother, warmly. "And so
is little Vic. You haven't seen her yet."

"Little Vic? Oh, to be sure--my namesake." For Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot's
real name, you must know, was Mr. Victor Byrne. "To be sure; must see
her to-morrow; Vic, to be sure."

"And Geoffrey," Mrs. Tudor went on less assuredly. "Geoff is doing very
well at school. You will have a good report of him from his masters. He
is a steady worker, and----"

"But how about the _home_ report of him, eh?" said Mr. Byrne, drily.
"There's two sides to most things, and I've rather a weakness for seeing
both. Never mind about that just now. I never take up impressions
hastily. Don't be afraid. I'll see Master Geoff for myself. Let's talk
of other things. What do these young ladies busy themselves about? Are
they good housekeepers, eh?"

Mrs. Tudor smiled.

"Can you make a pudding and a shirt, Elsa and Frances?" she asked. "Tell
your uncle your capabilities."

"I could manage the pudding," said Elsa. "I think the days for home-made
shirts are over."

"Hoot-toot, toot-toot!" said Mr. Byrne; "new-fangled notions, eh?"

"No, indeed, Great-Uncle Hoot----" began Frances, eagerly. Then blushing
furiously, she stopped short.

The old gentleman burst out laughing.

"Never mind, my dear; I'm used to it. It's what they always called
me--all my nephews and nieces."

"Have you a great many nephews and nieces besides us?" asked Elsa.

Mr. Byrne laughed again.

"That depends upon myself," he said. "I make them, you see. I have had
any quantity in my day, but they're scattered far and wide. And--there
are a great many blanks, Alice, my dear, since I was last at home," he
added, turning to Mrs. Tudor. "I don't know that any of them was ever
quite such a pet of mine as this little mother of yours, my dears."

"Oh!" said Elsa, looking rather disappointed; "you are not our real
uncle, then? I always thought you were."

[Illustration: MY BLACKAMOOR.]

"Well, think s