, I assure you, my dear fellow. Yes, I have been longing for days for
a plate of raspberries and cream. I have so little appetite, that
whenever I _can_ tempt it a little, the doctor says, I must not fail to
do so. No more, dear, thank you! It is of no consequence, you know,
really, not the least in the world; only, one can be of so much more
use, when one keeps one's health. Ah, you remember what health I had as
a child, John! You remember the dear old days here, when we were
children together?"

"I remember them very well, Sophronia," said Mr. Montfort, steadily.
"And speaking of that, I am expecting some young visitors here in a day
or two."

Cousin Sophronia looked up with a jerk; Margaret looked at her uncle in
surprise; he sipped his tea tranquilly, and repeated: "Some young
visitors, yes. They will interest you, Sophronia, with your strong
family feeling."

"Who--who are they?" asked Miss Sophronia. "Most ill-judged, I must say,
to have children here just now; who did you say they were, John?"

"Cousin Anthony's children. They lost their mother some years ago, you
remember; I fancy Anthony has had rather a hard time with them since.
Now he has to go out West for the rest of the summer, and I have asked
them to come here."

For once Miss Sophronia was speechless. After a moment's silence,
Margaret ventured to say, timidly, "How old are the children, Uncle
John?"

"Really, my dear, I hardly know. Two boys and a girl, I believe. I don't
even know their names; haven't seen their father for twenty years. Good
fellow, Anthony; a little absent-minded and heedless, but a good fellow
always. I was glad to be able to oblige him."

Miss Sophronia recovered her speech.

"Really, my dear John," she said, with an acrid smile; "I had no idea
you were such a philanthropist. If Fernley is to become an asylum for
orphan relations--"

"Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort.

His tone was quiet, but there was something in it that made the lady
redden, and check herself instantly. Margaret wondered what would
become of her, if her uncle should ever speak to her in that tone.

"I am sure I meant nothing!" said Miss Sophronia, bridling and rallying
again. "I am sure there was no allusion to our dearest Margaret. Absurd!
But these children are very different. Why, Anthony Montfort is your
second cousin, John. I know every shade of relationship; it is
impossible to deceive me in such matters, John."

"I should not attempt it, my