irrepressibly and in her uncle’s face as he returned to his seat with a fine confusion blushing thereon.  At that moment Burrage came in with the tea.  No doubt Mrs. Stokes was equally astonished to see a nursery-cupboard in a philosopher’s study, but she could turn her discourse to circumstances with more skill than her unworldly companion, and she resumed the thread of their interrupted chat with perfect composure.  Mr. Laurence Fairfax could not, however, take her cue, and he rose with readiness at the first movement of the ladies to go.  He began to say to Bessie that she must make his house her home when she wanted to come to Norminster, and that he should always be glad of her company.  Bessie thanked him, and as she looked up in his benevolent face there was a pure friendliness in her eyes that he responded to by a warm pressure of her hand.  And as he closed the door upon them he dismissed his sympathetic niece with a most kind and kinsman-like nod.

Mrs. Stokes began to laugh when they were clear of the house:  “A pretty discovery!  Mr. Laurence Fairfax has a little playfellow:  suppose he should turn out to be a married man?” cried she under her breath.  “So that is the depth of his philosophy!  My Arthur will be mightily amused.”

“What a darling little naughty boy that was!” whispered Bessie, also laughing.  “How I should like to have him at Abbotsmead!  What fun it would be!”

“Mind, you don’t mention him at Abbotsmead.  Mr. Fairfax will be the last to hear of him; the mother must be some unpresentable person.  If Mr. Laurence Fairfax is married, it will be so much the worse for you.”

“Nothing in the way of little Fairfax boys can be the worse for me,” was Bessie’s airy, pleasant rejoinder.  And she felt exhilarated as by a sudden, sunshiny break in the cloudy monotony of her horizon.

Mr. Laurence Fairfax returned to his study when he had parted with his visitors, and there he found Burrage awaiting him.  “Sir,” she said with a gravity befitting the occasion, “I must tell you that Master Justus has been seen by those two ladies.”

“And Master Justus’s pet lamb and cart and horses,” quoth her master as seriously.  “You had thrown the toys into the cupboard too hastily, or you had not fastened the door, and the lamb’s legs stuck out.  Miss Fairfax made a note of them.”

“Ah, sir, if you would but let Mr. John Short speak before the story gets round to your respected father the wrong way!” pleaded Burrage.  Mr. Laurence Fairfax did not answer her.  She said no more, but shook her head and went away, leaving him to his reflections, which were more mischievous than the reflections of philosophers are commonly supposed to be.

Bessie returned to Kirkham a changed creature.  Her hopefulness had rallied to the front.  Her mind was filled with blithe anticipations founded on that dear little naughty boy and his incongruous cupboard of playthings in her uncle’s study.