rainbows which sunshine struck out from the cut-glass borders of the
mirrors.

He was very well pleased to include the two great-uncles among the new
and interesting objects about him. He came up when called by one of
them, answered a few simple questions with childlike docility, and made
his mother more sure than before that these dignified old men were
treating him, her sister-in-law, and herself, with a certain pathetic
gentleness that was almost condescension.

Indeed, both the ladies perceived this, but they also saw that they
could not play the part their old relation had assigned to them. Such a
handsome collation as it was too, but each, after accepting a biscuit
and a glass of cider (the very finest cider and more than ten years
old), rose as if to take leave. One patted Peter on the head, and the
other ordered the chaise. Neither Laura nor Mrs. Peter Melcombe could
find courage to press them to eat, though their secluded lives and
old-fashioned manners would have made them quite capable of doing so if
they had felt at ease. They looked at one another as the two grand old
men withdrew, and their first words were of the disappointment the
grandmother would feel when she heard that they had hardly eaten
anything at all.

Madam Melcombe, however, asked no questions. She was found by them when
Mr. Mortimer and his brother had withdrawn sitting in her favourite
alcove with her chin resting upon her staff. She was deep in thought,
and excepting that she watched the chaise drearily as it wound down
among the apple and pear trees and was lost to sight, she did not appear
to be thinking of her sons. Nor did she mention them again, excepting
with reference to her funeral.