_Aunt_ Maud was the name that others, however, were most fond of
adopting, since the birth of the child; and remembering this, our
heroine smiled.

"That is what Beulah has called me, these six months," she said--"or
ever since Evert was born. I became an aunt the day he became a nephew;
and dear, good Beulah has not once called me _sister_ since, I
think."

"These little creatures introduce new ties into families," answered the
major, thoughtfully. "They take the places of the generations before
them, and edge us out of our hold on the affections, as in the end they
supplant us in our stations in life. If Beulah love me only as an
_uncle_, however, she may look to it. I'll be supplanted by no
Dutchman's child that was ever born!"

"_You_, Bob!" cried Maud, starting. "You are its _real_
uncle; Beulah must ever remember _you_, and _love_ you, as
her _own_ brother!"

Maud's voice became suddenly hushed, like one who feared she had said
too much. The major gazed at her intently, but he spoke not; nor did
his companion see his look, her own eyes being cast meekly and
tremblingly on the earth at her feet. A considerable pause succeeded,
and then the conversation reverted to what was going on in the valley.

The sun was now set, and the shadows of evening began to render objects
a little indistinct beneath them. Still it was apparent that much
anxiety prevailed in and about the Hut, doubtless on account of our
heroine's absence. So great was it, indeed, as entirely to supersede