temper uncompromising as the grave. Such was Captain Godfrey Monk; now
in his forty-fifth year. Upon his arrival at Leet Hall after landing,
with his children and one or two dusky attendants in their train, he was
received by his sister Emma, Mrs. Carradyne. Major Carradyne had died
fighting in India, and his wife, at the request of her brother Raymond,
came then to live at Leet Hall. Not of necessity, for Mrs. Carradyne was
well off and could have made her home where she pleased, but Raymond had
liked to have her. Godfrey also expressed his pleasure that she should
remain; she could act as mother to his children.

Godfrey's children were three: Katherine, aged seventeen; Hubert, aged
ten; and Eliza, aged eight. The girls had their father's handsome
features, but in their skin there ran a dusky tinge, hinting of other
than pure Saxon blood; and they were every whit as haughtily self-willed
as he was. The boy, Hubert, was extremely pretty, his face fair, his
complexion delicately beautiful, his auburn hair bright, his manner
winning; but he liked to exercise his own will, and appeared to have
generally done it.

A day or two, and Mrs. Carradyne sat down aghast. "I never saw children
so troublesome and self-willed in all my life, Godfrey," she said to her
brother. "Have they ever been controlled at all?"

"Had their own way pretty much, I expect," answered the Captain. "I was
not often at home, you know, and there's nobody else they'd obey."

"Well, Godfrey, if I am to remain here, you will have to help me manage
them."

"That's as may be, Emma. When I deem it necessary to speak, I speak;