bout to break out in a torrent of angry speech; but making a
visible effort, she controlled herself. "How do you do, my--my dear?"
she said, taking Margaret's offered hand, and giving it a little pinch
with the tips of her fingers. "I--a little misunderstanding, no doubt.
Willis,--the Blue Room,--for the present!" But Willis was suffering from
a sudden and violent fit of coughing, which shook his whole frame, and
made it necessary for him to rest his trunk against the wall and lean
against it, with his head down; so that it was fully five minutes before
Miss Sophronia Montfort's trunk got up to the Blue Room.

CHAPTER III.

THE UNEXPECTED.

When Mr. Montfort came home that afternoon, Margaret was waiting for
him, as usual, on the verandah; as usual, for she was determined to keep
the worry out of her face and out of her voice. But as her uncle came up
the steps, with his cheery "Well! and how's my lassie?" he was
confronted by Miss Sophronia Montfort, who, passing Margaret swiftly,
advanced with both hands held out, and a beaming smile.

"My dearest John! my poor, dear fellow! Confess that I have surprised
you. Confess it, John!--you did not expect to see me."

"Sophronia!" exclaimed Mr. Montfort. He stood still and contemplated the
visitor for a moment; then he shook hands with her, rather formally.

"You certainly have surprised me, Sophronia!" he said, kindly enough.
"What wind has blown you in this direction?"

"The wind of affection, my dear boy!" cried the strange lady. "I have
been planning it, ever since I heard of Aunt Faith's death. Dearest Aunt
Faith! What a loss, John! what an irreparable loss! I shall never
recover from the shock. The moment I heard of it, I said--William would
tell you, if he were here--I said, 'I must go to John! He will need me
now,' I said, 'and go I must.' I explained to William that I felt it as
a solemn duty. He took it beautifully, poor, dear fellow. I don't know
how they will get on without me, for his wife is sadly heedless, John,
and the children need a steady hand, they do indeed. But he did not try
to keep me back; indeed, he urged me to come, which showed such a
beautiful spirit, didn't it? And so here I am, my dearest boy, come to
take Aunt Faith's place, and make a home for you, my poor lonely cousin.
You know I have always loved you as a sister, John, and you must
consider me a real sister now; sister Sophronia, dear John!"

The lady paused for breath, and g