have spent here.'

'Little George!' as she took him by both hands--'who would have
thought it! You were little George with the apple cheeks. And are
no more of you here?'

He shook his head sadly. 'They would have been even more glad than I
am to welcome you home; they were older, and knew you better.'

'Ah! I must learn to ask no questions. And yet, that dear sister
Fanny of yours--'

'Gone many years since, ma'am. She died in India. I hope my
daughter Fanny may put you a little mind of her.'

'Is she not here?'

'Why, no. I wished to bring her, but she is but fifteen, and mamma
will not trust her out without herself. We are quiet people, and the
world is growing too gay for us.'

'Clara and I must come to find you out. Can you believe this tall
creature is poor dear Henry's daughter?' as Clara hastened to greet
her father's playfellow, with an alacrity which piqued Lady Britton
into a supercilious aside to Lord Fitzjocelyn that the Hendersons
were in poor circumstances, and no one visited them.

'And is no one here whom I know? Not one of the old set, George?'
asked the old lady, mournfully.