won on old Fulbert Underwood, led him in a lucid interval to direct
and sign a hurried will, drawn up by his steward, leaving the
Reverend Edward Clement Underwood sole guardian to his children, and
executor, together with his lawyer. It was done without Clement's
knowledge, or he would have remonstrated, for never was there a more
trying bequest than the charge which in a few days he found laid on
him.

He had of course already made acquaintance with the little girls.
Poor children, they had hitherto led a life as dreary as was possible
to children who had each other, and fresh air and open grounds.
Their mother was more and more of an invalid, and dreaded that their
father should take umbrage at the least expense that they caused; so
that they were scrupulously kept out of his way, fed, dressed, and
even educated as plainly as possible by a governess, cheap because
she was passe, and made up for her deficiencies by strictness
amounting to harshness, while they learnt to regard each new little
sister's sex as a proof of naughtiness on her part or theirs.

The first time they ever heard a man's step in the school-room
passage was in those days of undefined sorrow, alarm, and silence
after the governess had despatched the message to the only relation
whose address she knew. The step came nearer; there was a knock, the
sweet, strong voice asked,

"Are the poor little girls here?" and the tall figure was on one knee
among them, gathering as many as he could within his loving arms.
Perhaps he recollected Sister Constance among the forlorn flock at
Bexley; but these were even more desolate, for they had no past of
love and loyalty. But with that embrace it seemed to the four elders