one than the ruling, managing spirit, whom she had hardly known in
her childhood; but it was only for a moment, for Wilfred shrieked out
in an access of shyness at Grace's attempt to make acquaintance with
him; Francis was demanding, "Where's the orderly?" and Conrade
looking brimful of wrath at any one who made his mother cry.
Moreover, the fly had arrived, and the remainder had to be produced,
named, and kissed--Conrade and Francis, Leoline and Hubert, Wilfred
and Cyril, and little Stephana the baby. Really the names were a
study in themselves, and the cousins felt as if it would be hopeless
to endeavour to apply them.

Servants had been engaged conditionally, and the house was fully
ready, but the young mother could hardly listen to her aunt's
explanations in her anxiety that the little ones should be rested and
fed, and she responded with semi-comprehending thanks, while moving
on with her youngest in her arms, and as many hanging to her dress as
could get hold of it. Her thanks grew more emphatic at the sight of
cribs in inviting order, and all things ready for a meal.

"I don't drink tea with nurse," was Conrade's cry, the signal for
another general outcry, untranquillized by soothings and persuasions,
till the door was shut on the younger half of the family, and those
who could not open it remained to be comforted by nurse, a soldier's
widow, who had been with them from the birth of Conrade.

The Temple form of shyness seemed to consist in ignoring strangers,
but being neither abashed nor silenced, only resenting or avoiding
all attempts at intercourse, and as the boys rushed in and out of the
rooms, exploring, exclaiming, and calling mamma, to the interruption
of all that was going on, only checked for a few minutes by her