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dinner Barbara and Elizabeth retreated to Isabella's former bedroom, and talking freely of the events of the day, rested there in preparation for the further fatigues and pleasures awaiting them. Mrs. Wynne paid them a most welcome visit of ten minutes to detail more fully than she had been able to do in public, all the particulars which Mrs. Crane had given of Henrietta and her twin sons.

"Now I must go back to Mme. St. Croix,” she said rising; "I have really been rude in slipping away for so long."

"Oh, mamma, she will be glad of a little quiet,"

said Elizabeth.

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No, I think not; restless activity was always her character: who else would have a ball the very night before starting for the continent? And yet one cannot help liking her, there is so much that is good and kind about her; she could not have been pleasanter and kinder to you two girls if you had been her own children."

"Oh, and how good she is to that fulsome, tiresome M. St. Croix," burst out Barbara, and then laughed and added, "but it is very ungrateful to say so, after all the attention he paid me as Miss Wynne' all the afternoon, and all the flattering opinions of Paul which he poured into my ear, 'so happy to trust his darling child into the keeping of such an estimable husband." The only time I came unawares upon him with his darling child,' he was as snappish with her as could be. Poor Isabella! how glad she must be that Paul fell in love with her, and put such a speedy end to all that nonsense."

"Do you know what Will calls him? The walking humbug,' ,'" added Laura laughing. "I was so afraid once this afternoon that he would hear him. Grace Gordon did, and she laughed so, you can't think; and then M. St. Croix turned round and smiled so sweetly, and asked what we laughed at? I was obliged to point at a great green umbrella

which an old lady just before us was using for a parasol."

Mrs. Wynne looked grave: to Barbara, Laura's flippant amusement had been sufficient rebuke without this; and when their mother went away she hastened to turn the conversation from their host and hostess to safer subjects. Mrs. Wynne encountered Will and Gordon on the landing; and the very words she heard were "old walking humbug."

"Will!"

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'Yes, mother," said the boy, turning back. "I want you for one moment."

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Yes," and he followed her to the lesser drawing

room.

"My dear boy, I don't like that expression at all; and it is very bad taste, to put it upon no higher ground, to speak so of your host, and a connection

too."

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O, mother, it just suits him."

'Now, Will, don't let us have our old dispute about nicknames. You know I will have my way; and I will not have it used again."

Will's cheek flushed rather angrily. Mrs. Wynne. waited in silence a moment, then stroking that telltale cheek, and kissing his forehead, said kindly, "I own that I am vexed. Laura has been talking of him very flippantly, and says that, when you were all laughing at your using this very name this afternoon, he turned round and asked at what you were amused; and so she was forced to tell something so like a lie that I should have thought you would have been taught never to use an expression which common shame forbids your repeating.'

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"I did feel rather hot, I know."

"And Laura is quite enough inclined to be supercilious and satirical without your help."

"Oh, mother, what I do and say can't signify to her."

"But they do. Now Hargrave, David, and Gor

don are gone, you two are thrown more and more together every day; but remember, you are the elder." "She's such a good-natured, pleasant girl."

"Very," answered Mrs. Wynne, warmly; "full of good points, but not without faults, nor tendencies to them, any more than any other girl of twelve. You are two years older, and she loves you dearly; so what you say and do, or even think, must influence her, whether you wish it to do so or no. Now run off to Gordon; he will wonder what has become of you." Will, however, lingered. "I don't like it, mother." "What ?"

Having any influence over another person."

"No one can help themselves: it was the same with Paul and Barbara. But I don't want you to think of it further than by taking more pains with yourself. Now, if you stop, I cannot: Madame St. Croix will wonder what is become of me." And she kissed him fondly, and was gone.

The evening passed off happily: the invited guests were pleasant people. Madame St. Croix by her lively, gracious manners spread ease around her. Thus all went to bed at three in the morning, well pleased.

CHAPTER XX.

THE LITTLE SONS.

"When sorrow all our hearts would ask
We need not shun our daily task,
Nor hide ourselves for calm.
The herbs we seek to heal our wo e
Familiar by our pathway grow,
Our common air is balm."

BURNS.

LATE on Saturday night, Mr. Wynne and Barbara reached their long journey's end. Mr. Cradock was awaiting them in the hall, and gave Barbara so hearty a shake of the hand, that her heart at once warmed doubly towards him.

Coffee and more substantial fare were awaiting them in the dining-room, and were very acceptable.

"No Hetty?" said Mr. Wynne, looking round.

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'Oh, no; she specially charged me with her very best love to you both, but not till this week has she even been down so low as the drawing-room: we must not look for her here for a long time. Barbara, you are doing nothing: let me give you some more chicken."

The next morning dawned warm and bright. Barbara was up, and down punctually at nine, the Sunday breakfast hour in Aigburth Road, longing to pay a visit to the nursery on her way, yet not liking to do so unasked.

Presently her father and brother-in-law came in together. Mr. Cradock hoped that she was rested.

Mr. Wynne asked whether George were not a splendid little fellow ?

"I have not seen him."

"Not seen him! what a heartless aunt!" cried Mr. Wynne, amazed. "Why, I had a peep last night, and a fine show this morning: such a roar he set up at the sight of me!"

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"He knew you were a stranger," remarked Mr. Cradock, evidently pleased at his little son's discrimination. I am glad to hear him use his lungs even in such a deafening way; Dr. Matthews says it does him good. But now let us get to breakfast. Barbara, will you kindly take Hetty's place ?"

Barbara complied, thinking, but only sadly, not bitterly, how such behaviour on the part of his little daughter would have been regarded.

After breakfast came Clarke with mistress's love, and she hoped that Mr. and Miss Wynne would come up and see her as soon as they could do so. They went up to her sitting-room,-the room where, during her last visit, Barbara had so often seen her distracted with pains, mental and bodily, which she vainly tried to hide from her very sister.

Henrietta had made an effort, and was already on the sofa awaiting them, in the white dressing-gown and blue ribbons which Mrs. Crane had truly described as so becoming. Her fair face was still pale, but a bright red flush of expectation was lighting up cheek and lips, and at first sight made her more like happy, blooming Henrietta Wynne than she had looked for two years now.

"Don't rise, my darling," cried Mr. Wynne, bending over her, and giving her such a kiss!

"I don't rise, not because you forbid it, but because I can't," she answered, with her old saucy smile, keeping his hand fast in her long white fingers till she caught him looking sadly at their transparency and thinness, and with a smile and blush buried them out of sight under her dressing-gown.

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