not have expected much from a telegram--they came too often.

"Ha!" cried Trenholme, "we are going to have visitors, Mrs. Martha."

A good deal to Trenholme's surprise, the message was from Alec, and from
a point no further away than Quebec. It stated that he was there with
Bates, who was ill, and he thought the best thing would be to bring him
with him to Chellaston, if his brother had house-room enough.

The answers we give to such appeals are more often the outcome of
life-long habit than instances of separate volition. No question of what
answer to send occurred to Trenholme's mind as he pencilled his reply,
assuring a welcome to the sick man.

When the answer was despatched he saw that, as fate had thrust the
notice of this arrival between him and the proposed interview with
Sophia; it would be better, after all, to wait only a day or two more,
until he knew his brother's mind.

He heard nothing more from Alec that day. The day after was Saturday,
and it rained heavily.

"What time will the gentlemen arrive?" asked Mrs. Martha, but not as if
she took much interest in the matter.

"I can't tell," he replied. "They will probably let us know; but it's
best to be ready when guests may come any time, isn't it?"

He asked her this with a cheering smile, because her manner was strange,
and he wished to rouse her to a sense of her duties.